AND  OTIiER 
FRENCH- 

CANADIAN 
POEMS 


By  WILLIAM   HENRY  DRUMMOND 


The  Habitant,  and  other  French-Canadian 
Poems.        Illustrated    by    l' rulcrick    Siiupsuii 
Coburn.      I'opular  edition.      8 
Lar^e-paper  edition,  with   13  full-page  photo- 
gravures.    8°.     . 
The  same  in  full  leather 

Johnnie  Courteau,  and  other  Poems.     Illus- 
trated by  1- rederick  S.  Coburn. 
Popular  edition.      8'.      Illustrated 
Large-paper   edition.      8\      With     17    photo- 
gravure illustrations  and  text  cuts 
The  same  in  full  leather.      8" 

Johnnie  Courteau  and  The  Habitant.  Auto- 
graph edition,  limited  to  /ooo  numbered  sets, 
signed  by  the  author,  eaeh  volume  eontainiug  a 
poem  in  faesimile  of  the  original  manuscript. 
Two  volumes.  8'.  Fully  illustrated.  Calf 
backs. 

Philo-o-rum's  Canoe  and  Madeleine  Ver- 
cheres  Two  Poems.  With  photogravure 
illustrations  from  designs  by  Frederick  Simp- 
son Coburn.      8"  . 


G.    P.    PUTNAM'S   SONS 

NKW    YUKK    AND    I.O.NDON 


1     1    1  !.-   "V*     «v>      <*v     ^^ 

l.\BTANT 

OTHlZl<            MCH- 

VMTYnriM    ^np^1^ 

"  'Poleiti !  hees  sojer  neyer  fight  more  brave 
ak  decrv; poor  habitants.'^  ' 

|__ From  Pe  Papineau  Gun.      j 


WITH  AN  INTRODUCTl 

I  i^i il5  rrerhet-ff 


Mew  NOrk  QX\<i  Lorvdoh 

G.  P.  Putnanvs  S 

1902 


n 


m 


HABITANT 

:::::::  AND 

OTHER  rPCNCH- 
CANADIAN  poms 


Bv  VCilliciin  Hcnrv 
Druminond,  AID.  -ji5 


WITH  AN  INTRODUCTION  BY 

Louis  rrechefte 

AND   WITH   ILLUSTRATIONS   BY 

rrederick  SiiiApson  Colxirn 

TWENTY-SEVENTH  THOUSAND 


New  N'ork  and  London 

0.  P.  Purnon^'s  Sons 

1902 


COI'VRIGHT,  1897 
BY 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 


Set  up  and  electrotyped  Nov.,  1S97.  Reprinted  Nov.,  1897  ;  Dec. 
CtwiceJ,  1897  ;  July,  1S98  ;  Oct.,  189-S  ;  Dec.  (three  timesj,  1898  ;  March 
1899;  April,  1899;  Dec,  1899;  Jsn.,  igoo ;  Nov.,  1900;  Aug.,  igoi  ;  Oct., 
1901  ;  March,  1902  ;  June,  1902 


"Cbe  'ftnlchcrbochcr  f  rcaa,  lAcw  JJorl: 


TO   MY   DEAR   FRIEND   AND   FORMER   TEACHER 

GEORGE  MURRAY,  Esq.,  B.A.,  A.K.C.,  F.R.S.C. 

THESE   VERSES   ARE    DEDICATED   WITH    SINCERE 
ADMIRATION   AND   RESPECT 


111 


626910 


\\1^'^    /^^^^c  %^^IPJ)^^ 


INTRODUCTION 


ON  mc  demande,  pour  ce  charmant  volume, 
un  mot  de  preface  en  francais;  le  voici: 

Ouand,  en  1863,  je  publiai  mon  premier  re- 
cueil  de  poesies — -ecrites  au  college,  pour  la 
plupart,  —  Ic  grand  poete  americain  Longfellow 
eut  la  flatteuse  bienveillance  de  m'appeler  The 
pathfinder  of  a  new  land  of  song. 

Avec  mille  fois  plus  de  raison  puis-je  aujourd'- 
hui  passer  le  compliment  a  mon  sympathique 
confrere  et  ami,  I'auteur  de  ce  livre;  car,  si 
jamais  quelqu'un,  chez  nous,  a  merite  le  titre  de 
pathfinder  of  a  nezu  land  of  song,  c'est  assure- 
ment  lui. 

Non  seulement  il  a  decouvert  le  champ,  la 
clairiere,  la  vallee  fertile  et  encore  inexploree; 
il  en  a  fait  I'exploitation  a  sa  maniere,  avec  des 
outils  et  des  moyens  de  son  invention ;  et,  fier 


vi  Introduction 

de  sa  conquL'tc,  il  laissc.  tic  son  6p.iulc  robuste, 
tombcr  a  nos  picds  Ic  fruit  dc  son  travail,  la 
gcrbc  planturcuse  aux  ors  vier<^c.s,  a  Taronic 
sauvage,  aux  savourcuscs  promcsses,  toutc 
fraiche  ct  toutc  crissantc  dans  sa  rusticitc 
sainc. 

N'cst-clle  pas,  en  effct,  d'unc  ori<^inalit(5  pcu 
commune,  I'idee  de  prendre  un  i)auvre  illettre, 
de  le  presenter  comme  un  type  national  a  part, 
de  lui  mettre  aux  levres  une  lan^ue  qui  n'est 
pas  la  sienne  et  (ju'il  ne  connait  qu'  a  demi; 
d'en  /aire  en  meme  temps  un  personnage  bon, 
doux,  aimable,  honnete,  intelligent  et  droit, 
I'esprit  en  6ve\\,  Ic  coeur  plein  d'une  poesie 
native  stimulant  son  patriotisme,  jetant  un 
rayon  lumineux  dans  son  modestc  interieur, 
ber^ant  ses  heurcs  reveuses  de  souvenirs  loin- 
tains  et  melancoliques  ? 

Et  cela  sans  que  jamais,  dans  ce  portrait  d'un 
nouveau  genre,  le  plus  subtil  des  critiques 
puisse  surprcndre  nullc  part  le  coup  de  crayon 
de  la  caricature! 

Dans  ses  inimitablcs  contes  villageois,  George 
Sand  a  peint  les  paysans  du  Rerry  sous  des  de- 
hors tres  intercssants.      Elle  nous   les   montre 


Introduction  vii 

meme  d'un  sentiment  tres  affine  dans  leur  sim- 
pHcite  naive  et  leur  cordiale  bonhomie.  En 
somme,  ellc  en  fait  des  natures,  des  tempera- 
ments, quelque  chose  de  typique,  en  meme 
temps  qu'  harmonieux  de  teinte  et  de  forme. 

Mais  George  Sand  faisait  parler  ses  person- 
nages  dans  la  langue  du  pays,  dans  la  langue  dc 
la  chaumioi-e,  dans  leur  proprc  dialecte,  enfin. 
Elle  n'avait,  pour  ainsi  dire,  qu'  a  faire  penetrer 
le  souffle  de  son  talent  sous  le  reseau  de  la 
phrase,  pour  animer  celle-ci  d'un  reflet  de  ly- 
risme  ou  d'une  vibration  attendrie. 

La  tache  abordee  par  M.  Drummond  presen- 
tait  un  caractere  beaucoup  plus  difficile. 

Ici,  le  poete  avait  bien,  il  est  vrai,  le  milieu  a 
saisir,  place,  droit  en  face  de  son  objectif.  II 
^tait  assez  familier  avec  ses  acteurs  pour  les 
grouper  avantageusement,  en  menageant  les 
efTets  d 'ombres  et  de  lumiere.  II  est  naturelle- 
ment  assez  artiste  pour  ne  ricn  negliger  de  ce 
qui  ajoute  du  pittoresque  a  la  pose;  surtout,  il 
connaissait  a  fond  le  type  a  reproduire,  ses 
moeurs,  ses  passions,  ses  sentiments,  ses  pen- 
chants, ses  superstitions  et  ses  faiblesses. 

Mais  comment,  sans  tomber  dans  la  charge 


\iii  Iiitrocluclion 

ou  la  bouffonneric,  fairc  parlor  syst^matique- 
mcnt  h  scs  pcrsonnagcs  une  lanjj^uc  ctranijcrc, 
forcciiicnt  iiicorrcctc  dans  la  bouchc  dc  (jucl- 
qu'un  ijui  I'a  apprise  i)ar  orcillo,  sans  savoir  lire 
meme  dans  sa  propre  lani^ue  ? 

La  tentative  etait  bardie;  mais  on  sait  cpie 
le  succes  a  un  faible  i)our  les  audacieux. 

Dans  son  etude  des  Canadiens-fran^ais,  AT. 
Drummond  a  troiive  le  moyen  d'eviter  un 
(§cueil  qui  aurait  semble  inevitable  jiour  tout 
autre  que  pour  lui.  11  est  reste  vrai,  sans  tom- 
ber  dans  la  vulgarite,  et  piquant  sans  verser 
dans  le  grotesque. 

Qu'il  mette  en  scene  le  L^ros  ferniijr  fier  de 
son  bicn  ou  de  scs  filles  a  niarier,  le  \ieux  nie- 
decin  de  campagne  ne  comptant  plus  scs  etats 
de  service,  le  jcune  amourcux  qui  reve  au  clair 
de  la  lune,  le  vieillard  ([ui  repasse  en  sa  inc'- 
moire  la  longue  suite  des  jours  r^volus,  Ic 
conteur  de  legcndcs,  Tavetiturier  des  "  pays 
d'en  haut,"  et  meme  le  Canadien  exil(5  —  le 
Canadicn  errant,  comme  dit  la  chanson  popu- 
laire  —  qui  croit  toujours  entendre  resonner  a 
son  oreille  le  vague  tintement  des  cloches  dc 
son  \illage;  que  le  recit  soit  plaisant  ou  pathe- 


Introduction  ix 

tique,  jamais  la  note  ne  sonne  faux,  jamais  la 
bizarrerie  ne  degenere  en  puerilite  burlesque. 

C'est  la  un  tour  cle  force  comme  il  ne  s'en  fait 
pas  souvent,  et  c'est  avec  enthousiasme  que  je 
tends  la  main  a  M.  Drummond  pour  le  feliciter 
de  I'avoir  accompli. 

II  a  veritablement  fait  la  oeuvre  de  poete  et 
d'artiste. 

J'ajouterai  qu'il  a  fait  aussi  CEuvre  de  bon 
citoyen.  Car  le  jour  sous  lequel  il  presente  mes 
compatriotes  illettres  ne  peut  manquer  de  valoir 
a  ceux-ci  — ■  et  partant  a  tout  le  reste  de  la  na- 
tionalite  —  un  accroissement  desirable  dans  I'es- 
time  de  nos  compatriotes  de  langue  anglaise, 
qui  n'ont  pas  ete  a  meme  de  les  etudier  d'aussi 
pres  q,ue  M.  Drummond. 

La  peinture  qu'en  fait  le  poete  est  on  ne  peut 
plus  sympathique  et  juste;  et  de  semblables 
procedes  ne  peuvent  que  cimenter  I'union  de 
coeur  et  d'esprit  qui  doit  exister  entre  toutes 
les  fractions  qui  composent  la  grande  famille 
canadienne  appelee  a  v^ivre  et  a  prosperer  sous 
la  meme  loi  et  le  meme  drapeau. 

En  lisant  les  vers  de  M.  Drummond,  le  Ca- 
nadien-fran^ais  sent   que   c'est  la   I'expression 


X  Introduction 

irunc  anic  aniic;  ct.  ;i  cc  comptc,  jc  dois  h 
rautciir  jilus  (luc  incs  bravos,  jc  lui  tlois  cii 
memc  Icinps  un  chalcurcux  mcrci. 

Louis  Frechette. 

Montreal,  13  octobre  1897. 


PREFACE 

IN  presenting  to  the  public  "  The  Habitant 
and  other  French-Canadian  Poems,"  I  feel 
that  my  friends  who  are  already,  more  or  less, 
familiar  with  the  work,  understand  that  I  have 
not  written  the  verses  as  examples  of  a  dialect, 
or  with  any  thought  of  ridicule. 

Having  lived,  practically,  all  my  life,  side  by 
side  with  the  French-Canadian  people,  I  have 
grown  to  admire  and  love  them,  and  I  have  felt 
that  while  many  of  the  English-speaking  public 
know  perhaps  as  well  as  myself  the  French- 
Canadian  of  the  cities,  yet  they  have  had  little 
opportunity  of  becoming  acquainted  with  the 
habitant,  therefore  I  have  endeavored  to  paint 
a  few  types,  and  in  doing  this,  it  has  seemed 
to  me  that  I  could  best  attain  the  object  in 
view  by  having  my  friends  tell  their  own  tales 
in  their  own  way,  as  they  would  relate  them 
to  English-speaking  auditors  not  conversant 
with  the  French  tongue. 

My  good  friend,  Dr.  Louis  Frechette,  Poet 

xi 


xii  Preface 

Laureate,  has  as  a  iMriuli-Canadiaii,  kindly 
written  an  "  Introductory  "  in  his  own  graceful 
hii\i;uage,  and  I  have  to  thank  him  above  all 
iov  his  recognition  of  the  spirit  which  has  actu- 
ated me  in  writing  "  dialect  "  verse. 

To  Mr.  F.  S.  Coburn,  the  artist,  also,  I  am 
deeply  indebted  for  the  faithful  manner  in 
which  he  has  interpreted  the  different  charac- 
ters and  scenes  contained  in  this  volume.  All 
the  pictures  have  been  sketched  from  nature  or 
life,  and  the  keenest  critic  will  agree  with  me, 
that  Mr.  Coburn's  illustrations  are  most  typi- 
cal, both  of  tlie  people  and  the  soil. 

William  Henry  Drummond. 


CONTENTS. 


De  Habitant        .... 

The  Wreck  of  the  "Julie  Plante 

Le  Vieux  Temps   . 

De  Papineau  Gun 

How  Bateese  Came  Home  . 

De  Nice  Leetle  Canadienne 

'Poleon  Dore 

De  Notaire  Publique 

Maxime  Labelle  . 

Memories       .... 

Phil-o-rum  Juneau 

De  Bell  of  St.  Michel 

Pelang  .... 

Mon  Choual  "  Castor  " 

Ole  TA^(  ON  BoRD-A  Plouffe 

The  Grand  Seigneur 

xiii 


PAGE 

I 

8 
II 

21 

24 

34 

37 

44 
48 

56 
60 

71 

74 
80 

85 
91 


MV 


Contents 


M'siKU  S.Mir' 

^^■llEN  Albani  Sang 

Dk  Cami>  on  i)E  "Cheval  Gkis" 

De  Stove  Pipe  Hole    . 

I)e  Snowbird 

'I'liE  Habitant's  Jubilee  Ode 

Ole  Docteur  Fiset 


PACF 

94 
104 
1 12 
118 

128 
134 


THE  HABITANT 


DE  place  I  get  born,  me,  is  up  on  de  reever 
Near  foot  of  de  rapide  dat  's  call  Cheval 

Blanc 
Beeg  mountain  behin'   it,  so  high  you  can't 
climb  it 
An'   whole  place  she  's  mebbe  two  honder 
arpent. 


De  fader  of  me,  he  was  habitant  farmer, 
Ma  gran'  fader  too,  an'  hees  fader  also, 


2  The  Habitant 

Dcy  don't  mak'  no  moncc,  but  dat  is  n't  fonny 
For  it   *s  not  easy  get   cv'ryt'ing,  you  mus' 
know — 

All  de  sam'  dere  is  somct'ing  dey  got  ev'ry- 
boddy, 
Dat's  plaintee  good  hcalt',  wat  de  monee 
can't  geev, 
So  I  'm  workin*  away  dere,  an'  happy  for  stay 
dere 
On  farm  by  de  reever,  so  long  I  was  leev. 

O!  dat  was  de  place  w'en  de  spring  tarn  she  's 
comin', 

W'en  snow  go  away,  an'  de  sky  is  all  blue — 
W'en  ic^  lef '  de  water,  an'  sun  is  get  hotter 

An'  back  on  de  medder  is  sing  de  gou-glou — 

W'en   small  sheep  is  firs'   comin'   out   on  de 
pasture, 
Deir  nice  leetle  tail  stickin'  up  on  deir  back, 
Dey  ronne  wit'  deir  moder,  an'  play  wit'  each 
oder 
An'  jomp  all  de  tam  jus'  de  sam'  dey  was 
crack — 

An'  ole  cow  also,  she  's  glad  winter  is  over, 
So  she  kick  herse'f  up,  an'  start  off  on  de 
race 


The  Habitant  3 

Wit'  de  two-year-olc  heifer,  dat's  purty  soon 
lef  her, 
W'y  ev'ryt'ing's  crazee  all  over  de  place! 

An'  down  on  de  reever  de  wil'  duck  is  quackin' 
Along  by  de  shore  leetle  san'  piper  ronne — 

De  bullfrog  he  's  gr-rompin'  an'  dore  is  jompin' 
Dey  all  got  deir  own  way  for  mak'  it  de 
fonne. 

But  spring  's  in  beeg  hurry,  an'  don't  stay  long 
wit'  us 
An'  firs'  t'ing  we  know,  she  go  off  till  nex* 
year, 
Den  bee  commence  hummin',  for  summer  is 
comin' 
An'  purty  soon  corn  's  gettin'  ripe  on  de  ear. 

Dat's  very  nice  tam  for  wake  up  on  de  morning 
An'  lissen  de  rossignol  sing  ev'ry  place, 

Feel  sout'  win'  a-blowin'  see  clover  a-growin' 
An'  all  de  worl'  laufjhin'  itself  on  de  face. 


'fe" 


Mos'  ev'ry  day  raf  it  is  pass  on  de  rapide 
De  voyageurs  singin'  some  ole  chanson 
'Bout  girl  down  de  reever — too  bad  dey  mus' 

leave  her, 
But  comin'  back  soon'  wit'  beaucoup  d'argent. 


4  The  Habitant 

An'  den  w'cn  dc  fall  an'  dc  winter  come  roun 

us 
An'  bird  of  de  summer  is  all  fly  away, 
Wen  mebbe  she  's  snowin'  an'   nort'  win'  is 

blowin' 
An'  nit^ht  is  mos'  t'ree  tam  so  long  as  de  day 

You  t'ink  it  was  bodder  de  habitant  farmer  ? 

Not  at  all — he  is  happy  an'  feel  satisfy, 
An'  cole  may  las'  good  w'ile,  so  long  as  de 
wood-pile 

Is  ready  for  burn  on  de  stove  by  an'  bye. 

Wen  I  got  plaintce  hay  put  away  on  de  stable 
So  de  sheep  an'  de  cow,  dey  got  no  chance 

to  freeze. 
An'    de   hen    all    togedder — I    don't    min'    de 

wcddcr — 
De  nort'  win'  may  blow  jus'  so  moche  as  she 

please. 

An'  some  cole  winter  night  how  I  wish  you  can 
see  us, 
Wen  I  smoke  on  de  pipe,  an'  de  ole  woman 
sew 
By  de  stove  of  T'ree  Reever — ma  wife's  fader 
geev  her 
On  day  we  get  marry,  dat  's  long  tam  ago — 


The  Habitant  5 

De  boy  an'  de  girl,  dey  was  readin'  it's  lesson, 
De  cat  on  de  corner  she  's  bite  heem  de  pup, 
Ole  "  Carleau  "  he  's  snorin'  an'  beeg  stove  is 
roarin' 
So  loud  dat  I  'm  scare  purty  soon  she  bus' 
up. 

Philomene — dat    's    de    oldes' — is    sit    on    de 
winder 
An'  kip  jus'  so  quiet  lak  wan  leetle  mouse, 
She  say  de  more  finer  moon  never  was  shiner — • 
Very    fonny,    for   moon   is   n't    dat    side  de 
house. 

But  purty  soon  den,  we  hear  foot  on  de  outside, 
An'  some  wan  is  place  it  hees  han'   on  de 
latch, 
Dat  's  Isidore  Goulay,  las'  fall  on  de  Brul6 
He  's  tak'  it  firs'  prize  on  de  grand  ploughin' 
match. 

Ha  !  ha  !  Philomene  ! — dat  was  smart  trick  you 
play  us 
Come  help  de  young  feller  tak'  snow  from 
hees  neck, 
Dere  's  not'ing  for  hinder  you   come    ofT  de 
winder 
Wen   moon  you   was  look  for   is   come,   I 
expec' — 


6  The  Habitant 

Isidore,  he  is  tole  us  de  news  on  de  parish 
'Bout  hees  Lajcunessc  Colt — travel  two  forty, 
sure, 
'Bout    Jcremie    Choquette,    come    back    from 
Woonsocket 
An'  t'ree  new  leetle  twin  on  Madame  Vail- 
lancour'. 

But    nine    o'clock    strike,    an'    de    chil'ren    is 
sleepy, 
Mese'f  an'  olc  woman  can't  stay  up  no  more 
So   alone   by   de   fire — 'cos  dey  say  dey  ain't 
tire — 
We  lef  Philomene  an'  de  young  Isidore. 

I  s'pose  dey  be  talkin'  beeg  lot  on  de  kitchen 
'Bout  all  dc  nice  moon  dey  was  see  on  de 
sky, 

For  Philomene  's  takin'  long  tarn  get  awaken 
Nex'  day,  she  's  so  sleepy  on  bote  of  de  eye. 

Dat   's  wan   of  dem    ting's,    ev'ry   tam   on  de 

fashion. 

An'  'bout  nices'  t'ing  dat  was  never  be  seen. 

Got  not'ing  for  say  me — I  spark  it  sam'  way 

me 

Wen  I  go  see  de  moder  ma  girl  Philomene. 


The  Habitant  7 

We  leev  very  quiet  'way  back  on  de  contree 
Don't  put  on  sam  style  lak  de  big  village, 
Wen  we  don't  get  de  monee  you  t'ink  dat  is 
fonny 
An'  mak'  plaintee  sport  on  de  Bottes  Sau- 
vages. 

But  I  tole  you — dat  's  true — I  don't  go  on  de 
city 
If   you    geev    de    fine    house    an'    beaucoup 
d' argent — 
I  rader  be  stay  me,  an'  spen'  de  las'  day  me 
On    farm    by    de    rapide    dat  's   call    Cheval 
Blanc. 


Wreck  °^yiiliePlante 


ON  wan  dark  nif^ht  on  Lac  St,  Pierre, 
De  win'  she  blow,  blow,  blow. 
An'  de  crew  of  de  wood  scow  "  Julie  Plante  '' 

Got  scar't  an'  run  below — 
For  de  win'  she  blow  lak  hurricane 

Bimeby  she  blow  some  more. 
An'  de  scow  bus'  up  on  Lac  St.  Pierre 
Wan  arpent  from  de  shore. 

De  captinne  walk  on  de  fronte  deck, 

An'  walk  de  hin'  deck  too — 
He  call  de  crew  from  up  de  hole 

He  call  de  cook  also. 
De  cook  she  's  name  was  Rosie, 

She  come  from  Montreal, 

8 


Wreck  of  the  "Julie  Plante"      c 

Was  chambre  maid  on  lumber  baree. 
On  dc  Grande  Lachine  Canal. 

De  win'  she  blow  from  nor'-eas'-wes,'  — 

De  scut'  win'  she  blow  too, 
Wen  Rosie  cry  "  Mon  cher  captinne, 

Mon  cher,  w'at  I  shall  do  ?  " 
Den  de  Captinne  t'row  de  big  ankerre, 

But  still  the  scow  she  dreef, 
De  crew  he  can't  pass  on  de  shore, 

Becos'  he  los'  hees  skeef. 

De  night  was  dark  lak'  wan  black  cat, 

De  wave  run  high  an'  fas', 
Wen  de  captinne  tak'  de  Rosie  girl 

An'  tie  her  to  de  mas'. 
Den  he  also  tak'  de  life  preserve, 

An'  jomp  off  on  de  lak', 
An'  say,  "  Good-bye,  ma  Rosie  dear, 

I  go  drown  for  your  sak'." 

Nex'  morning  very  early 

'Bout  ha' f -pas'  two — t'ree — four — 
De  captinne — scow — an'  de  poor  Rosie 

Was  corpses  on  de  shore, 
For  de  win'  she  blow  lak'  hurricane 

Bimeby  she  blow  some  more. 
An'  de  scow  bus'  up  on  Lac  St.  Pierre, 

Wan  arpent  from  de  shore. 


lo  The  llabiUmt 

MOI^L. 

Now  all  good  wood  scow  sailor  man 

Tak'  warning  by  dat  storm 
An'  go  an'  marry  some  nice  French  girl 

An'  leev  on  wan  beeg  farm. 
De  win'  can  blow  lak'  hurricane 

An'  s'pose  she  blow  some  more, 
Vou  can't  get  drown  on  Lac  St.  Pierre 

So  long  you  stay  on  shore. 


^'^^.ri 


Tcrvips  I 


YENEZ  ici,  mon  cher  ami,  an'  sit  down  by 
me — so 
An'  I  will  tole  you  story  of  old  tam  long  ago — 
Wen  ev'ryt'ing  is  happy — w'en  all  de  bird  is 


smg 


An'  me! — I  'm  young  an'  strong  lak  moose  an' 


not  afraid  no  t'ing. 


I  close  my  eye  jus'  so,  an'  see  de  place  w'ere 

I  am  born — 
I  close  my  ear  an'  lissen  to  musique  of  de  horn, 


ii 


12  The  Habitant 

Dat  's  horn  ma  dear  olc  modcr  blow — an  only 

t'ing  she  play 
Is    "  viens    done    vite    Napoleon — 'peche    toi 

pour  votre  souper. " — 

An'   w'en   he   's  hear  dat   nice  musique — ma 

leetle  doL^  "  Carleau 
Is    place   hees    tail   upon    hecs   back — an'    den 

he  's  let  heem  <jo — 
He  's  jomp  on  fence — he  's  swimmin'  crik — 

he  's  ronne  two  forty  gait, 
He  say  "  dat  's  somet'ing  good  for  cat — Car- 

leau  mus'  not  be  late." 


O  dem  was  pleasure  day  for  sure,  dem  day  of 

long  ago 
Wen  I  was  play  w  it'  all  de  boy,  an'  all  de  girl 

also; 
An'  many  tarn  w'en  I  'm  alone  an'  t'ink  of  day 

gone  by 
An'  pull  latire  an'  spark  de  girl,  I  cry  upon  my 

eye. 

Ma  fader  an'   ma  moder   too,   got    nice,  nice 

familee, 
Dat  's  ten  gar^on  an'  t'orteen  girl,  was  mak'  it 

twenty  t'ree 


Le  Vieux  Temps  13 

But  fonny  t'ing  de  Gouvernement  don't  geev 

de  firs'  prize  den 
Lak  w'at  dey  say  dey  geev  it  now,  for  only 

wan  douzaine. 


De   English   peep  dat  only   got   wan    familee 

small  size 
Mus'  be  feel  glad  dat  tarn  dere  is  no  bonder 

acre  prize 
For  fader   of   twelve   chil'ren — dey   know  dat 

mus'  be  so, 
De    Canayens    v/ould     boss     Kebeck — mebbe 

Ontario. 


But    dat    is  not  de  story  dat  I  was  gone  tole 

you 
About  de  fun  we  use  to  have  w'en  we  leev  a 

chez  nous 
We  're  never  lonesome  on  dat  house,  for  many 

cavalier 
Come  at  our  place  mos'  every  night — especially 

Sun-day. 

But  tam  I  'member  bes'  is  w'en  I  'm  twenty 

wan  year — me — 
An'  so  for  mak'  some  pleasurement — we  geev 

wan  large  soiree 


14  'llic  ll:ibitaiU 

Dc  w  hole  paruissc  she  be  invite — de  Cure  he  's 

come  too — 
Wit  phiiiuee  peep   from   'noder  place — dat   's 

more  I  can  tqle  you. 

De  ni^ht   she  's  cole  an'   freeze  also,  chemin 

she  's  fill  wit  snow 
An'  on  de  chimley  lak  phantome,  de  win'  is 

mak'  it  blow — 
But  boy  an'  girl  come  all  de  sam  an'  pass  on 

grande  parloir 
For  warm  itself  on  beeg  box  stove,  was  mak* 

on  Trois  Rivieres — 

An'  w'en   Bonhommc    Latour   commence    for 

tune  up  hees  fidelle 
It  mak'  us  all  feel  very  glad — I'enfant!  he  play 

so  well, 
Musique  suppose  to  be  firs'  class,  I  offen  hear, 

for  sure 
But    mos'   bes'    man,    beat   all   de   res',   is  ole 

Bateese  Latour — 


An'  w'en  Bateese  play  Irish  jecg,  he  's  learn 

on  Mattawa 
Dat  tarn  he  's  head  boss  cook  Shaintee — den 

leetle  Joe  Lcblanc 


Le  Vieux  Temps  15 

Tak'  hole  de  beeg  Marie  Juneau  an'  dance  upon 

de  floor 
Till  Marie  say  "  Excuse  to  me,  I  cannot  dance 

no  more." — 


An'  den  de  Cure  's  mak*  de  speech — ole  Cure 

Ladouceur! 
He  say  de  girl  was  spark  de  boy  too  much  on 

some  cornerre — 
An'  so  he  's  tole  Bateese  play  up  ole  fashion 

reel  a  quatre 
An'  every  body  she  mus'  dance,  dey  can't  get 

off  on  dat. 


Away   she    go — hooraw!     hooraw!     plus    fort 

Bateese,  mon  vieux 
Camille  Bisson,  please  watch  your  girl — dat  's 

bes'  t'ing  you  can  do. 
Pass  on  de  right  an'  tak'  your  place  Mamzelle 

Des  Trois  Maisons 
You  're  s'pose  for  dance  on  Paul  Laberge,  not 

Telesphore  Gagnon. 

Mon  oncle  Al-fred,  he  spik  lak*  dat — 'cos  he  is 

boss  de  floor, 
An'  so  we  do  our  possibill  an'  den  commence 

encore. 


1 6  The  Habitant 

Dein  crowd  of  boy  an'  girl  I'm  suic  keep  up 

until  nex'  day 
If  olc  Batecse  don't  stop  hcscfT,   he  come  so 

fatigue. 


An'  affer  dat,  we  eat  some  t'ing,   tak'   Icetle 

drink  also 
An'    de  Cur6,    he   's  tole  stor\-  of  many  jxar 

ago— 
Wen  Iroquois  sauvage  she  's  keel  de  Canayens 

an'  steal  deir  hair, 
^n'  say  dat  's  only  for  Bon  Dieu,  we  don't  be 

here — he  don't  be  dere. 


But  dat  was  mak'  de  girl  feel  scare — so  all  de 

cavalier 
Was  ax  hees  girl  go  home  right  off,  an'  place 

her  on  de  sleigh, 
An'  w'en  dey  start,  de  Cure  say,  "  Bonsoir  et 

bon  voyage 
Menagez-vous — tak'     care      for    you — prenez- 

garde  pour  les  sauvages. " 

An'   den  I  go  mesefT  also,  an'  tak'   ma  belle 

Elmire — 
She  's  nicer  girl  on  whole  Comte,  an'  jus'  got 

eighteen  year — 


Le  Vieux  Temps  17 

Black  hair — black  eye,  an'  chick  rosee  dat  's  lak 

wan  fameuse  on  de  fall 
But  don't  spik  much — not  of  dat  kin',  I  can't 

say  she  love  me  at  all. 


Ma  girl — she's  fader  beeg  farmeur — leev  'noder 

side  St.  Flore 
Got     five-six    honder    acre — mebbe     a    leetle 

more — 
Nice  sugar  bush — une  belle  maison — de  bes'  I 

never  see  — 
So  w'en  I  go  for  spark  Elmire,  I  don't  be  mak' 

de  foolish  me — 


Elmire! — she  's  pass  t'ree  year  on  school — Ste. 

Anne  de  la  Perade 
An'  w'en  she  's  tak'  de  firs'  class  prize,  dat  's 

mak'  de  ole  man  glad ; 
He  say  "  Ba  gosh — ma  girl  can  wash — can  keep 

de  kitchen  clean 
Den  change  her  dress — mak'  politesse   before 

God  save  de  Oueen." 

Dey  *s  many  way   for  spark  de  girl,  an'  you 

know  dat  of  course. 
Some  way  dey  might  be  better  way,  an'  some 

dey  might  be  worse 


1 8  The  Habitant 

But  I  hik'   sit  some  cole  ni_<;ht  wit'  my  girl  on 

ole  burleau 

Wit'    lot    of    hay    keep  our    foot    warm — an' 

plaintee  buffalo — 

Dat  's  geev  good  chances  get  acquaint — an'  if 

burleau  upset 
An'  t'row  you  out  upon  de  snow — dat  's  better 

chances  yet — 
An'   if  you  help  de  girl  go  home,  if  horse  he 

ronne  away 
De  girl  she  's  not  much  use  at  all — don't  geev 

you  nice  baiser! 

Dat  's  very  well  for  fun  ma  frien',   but  w'en 

you  spark  for  keep 
She  's  not  sam  t'ing  an'  mak'  you  feel  so  scare 

lak'  leetle  sheep 
Some  tarn  you  get  de  fever — some  tarn  you  're 

lak  snowball 
An'  all  de  tam  you  ack  lak'  fou — can't  spik  no 

t'insi  at  all. 


■t> 


Wall !  dat  's  de  way  I  feel  meseff,  wit  Elmire 

on  burleau, 
Jus'  lak'   small  dog  try  ketch  hees  tail — roun' 

roun*  ma  head  she  go 


Le  Vieux  Temps  19 

But  bimeby  I  come  more  brave — an'  tak'  El- 
mire  she's  ban' 

"  Laisse-moi  tranquille  "  Ehnire  she  say  "  You 
mus'  be  crazy  man." 

"  Yass — yass  I  say  "  mebbe  you  t'ink  I  'm  wan 

beeg  loup  garou, 
Dat  's  forty  t'ousand  'noder  girl,  I  lef  dem  all 

for  you, 
1  s'pose  you  know  Polique  Gauthier  your  frien' 

on  St.  Cesaire 
I  ax  her  marry  me  nex'  wick — she  tak'  me — I 

don't  care." 

Ba  gosh;    Elmire  she   don't  lak  dat — it  mak' 

her  feel  so  mad — 
She  commence  cry,  say  "  Toleon  you  treat  me 

very  bad — 
I  don't  lak  see  you  t'row  you'scff  upon  Polique 

Gauthier, 
So  if  you  say  you  love  me  sure — we  mak'  de 

marie6."  — 

Oh  it  was  fine  tam  affer  dat — Castor  I  t'ink  he 

know, 
We  're  not  too  busy  for  get  home — he  go  so 

nice  an'  slow. 


20  The  ILibitant 

He    's   only    upset    t'ree — four    tam — an'    jus 

about  daylight 
We  pass  upon  de  ole  man's  place — an'  every 

t'ing  's  all  right. 

Wall !   we  leev  happy  on  de  farm  for  nearly 

fifty  year, 
Till  wan  day  on  de  summer  tam — she  die — ma 

belle  Elmire 
I   feel  so  lonesome  Icf  behin' — I  tink  't  was 

bes'  mebbe — 
Dat  w'en   le    Bon    Dieu   tak'    ma  famme — he 

should  not  forget  me. 

But  dat  is  hees  biz-nesse  ma  fricn' — I   know 

dat  's  all  right  dere 
I  '11  wait  till  he  call  "'Poleon  "  den  I  will  be 

prepare — 
An'  w'en  he  fin'  me  ready,  for  mak'  de  longue 

voyage 
He  guide  me  t'  "oo  de  wood  hesef  upon  ma  las' 

portage. 


"  DE    PAPINEAU    GUN." 

AN   INCIDENT   OF  THE   CANADIAN    REBELLION 

OF   1837. 

BON  jour,  M'sieu' — you  want  to  know 
'Bout  dat  ole  gun — w'at  good  she  's  for  r 
VV'y!  Jean  Bateese  Bruneau — mon  pere, 
Fight  wit'  dat  gun  on  Pap'neau  War! 

Long  tarn  since  den  you  say — C'est  vrai, 
An'  me  too  young  for  'member  well, 

But  how  de  patriot  fight  an'  die, 
I  offen  hear  de  ole  folk  tell. 

De  English  don't  ack  square  dat  tam, 
Don't  geev  de  habitants  no  show. 

So  'long  come  Wolfred  Nelson 
Wit'  Louis  Joseph  Papineau. 

An'  swear  de  peep  mus'  have  deir  right, 

Wolfred  he  's  write  Victoriaw, 
But  she  's  no  good,  so  den  de  war 

Commence  among  de  habitants. 


The  Habitant 

Mon  pere  he  Iccv  to  Grande  Bruld 
So  smarter  man  you  never  see, 

Was  ahvay  on  dc  grande  hooraw ! 
Plain  tee  w'at  you  call  "  Esprit!  " 

An'  w'cn  dey  form  wan  compagnie 
All  dress  wit'  tuque  an'  ceinture  sash, 

Ma  fader  tak'  hees  gun  wit'  hecm 
An'  marche  away  to  Saint  Eustache, 

Were  many  patriots  was  camp 

Wit'  brave  Chenier,  deir  Capitaine, 

W'en  'long  come  English  Generale, 
An*  more  two  t'ousan'  sojer  man. 

De  patriot  dey  go  on  church 
An'  feex  her  up  deir  possibill; 

Dey  fight  deir  bes',  but  soon  fin'  out 
"  Canon  de  bois  "  no  good  for  kill. 

An'  den  de  church  she  come  on  fire, 
An'  burn  almos'  down  to  de  groun', 

So  w'at  you  t'ink  our  man  can  do 
Wit'  all  dem  English  armee  roun'  ? 

'Poleon,  hees  sojer  never  fight 

More  brave  as  dem  poor  habitants, 

Chenier,  he  try  for  broke  de  rank 
Chenier  come  dead  immediatement. 


''De  Papineau  Gun"  23 

He  fall  near  w'ere  de  cross  is  stan' 

Upon  de  ole  church  cimitiere, 
Wit'  Jean  Poulin  an'  Laframboise 

An'  plaintee  more  young  feller  dcre. 

De  gun  dey  rattle  lak'  tonnere 

Jus'  bang,  bang,  bang!  dat  's  way  she  go, 
An'  wan  by  wan  de  brave  man  's  fall 

An'  red  blood  's  cover  all  de  snow. 

Ma  fader  shoot  so  long  he  can 

An'  den  he  's  load  hees  gun  some  more, 
Jomp  on  de  ice  behin'  de  church 

An'  pass  heem  on  de  'noder  shore. 

Wall !  he  reach  home  fore  very  long 

An'  keep  perdu  for  many  day. 
Till  ev'ry  t'ing  she  come  tranquille, 

An'  sojer  man  all  gone  away. 

An'  affer  dat  we  get  our  right, 
De  Canayens  don't  fight  no  more, 

Ma  fader's  never  shoot  dat  gun. 
But  place  her  up  above  de  door. 

An*  Papineau,  an'  Nelson  too 

Dey  're  gone  long  tam,  but  Ave  are  free, 
Le  Bon  Dieu  have  'em  'way  up  dere. 

Salut,  Wolfred!     Salut,  Louis! 


/ 


'^Ip^  now 

JS^  CAME  miM 
;;.^,,;  noMi:  t^OT^ 


^5* 


A]'^i^iS:fe^^ 


(\\i« 


W'ZX  I  was  yount;  boy  on  dc  farm,  dat  's 
twenty  year  ago 
I  have  wan  fricn'  he  's  lecv  near  me,  call  Jean 

Bateese  Trudeau 
An  offen  w'en  we  are  alone,  we  lak  for  spik 

about 
De  tarn  w'en  we  was   come    beeg   man,    wit' 
moustache  on  our  niout'. 


Bateese  is  get  it  on  hees  head,  he  's  too  moche 

educate 
For  mak'  de  habitant  farmcrrc — he  better  go 

on  State — 


24 


How  Bateese  Came  Home       25 

An'    so   wan   summer  evening   we    're    drivin' 

home  dc  cow 
He  's  tole  me  all  dc  whole  beez-nesse — jus'  lak 

you  hear  me  now. 

Wat  's  use  mak'  foolish  on  de  farm  ?  dere  's 

no  good  chances  lef 
An'  all  de  tam  you  be  poor  man — you  know 

dat  's  true  you'se'f ; 
We  never  get  no  fun  at  all — don't  never  go  on 

spree 
Onless  we  pass  on   'noder  place,   an'    mak'    it 

some  monee. 

I  go  on  Les  Etats  Unis,  I  go  dere  right  away 
An'  den  mebbe  on  ten-twelve  year,  I  be  riche 

man  some  day, 
An'  w'en  I  mak'  de  large  fortune,  I  come  back 

I  s'pose 
Wit'   Yankee    famme    from    off  de  State,    an' 

monee  on  my  clothes. 

I   tole  you   somet'ing  else   also — mon    cher 

Napoleon 
I  get  de  grande  majorite,  for  go  on  parliament 
Den  buil'  fine  house  on  borde  I'eau — near  w'ere 

de  church  is  stand 
More  finer  dan  de  Presbytere,  w'en  I  am  come 

riche  man!  " 


26  The  Habitant 

I  say  "  For  w'at  you  spik  lak  dat  ?  you  must 

be  gone  crazce 
Dere    's    plaintec    feller    on    de    State,    more 

smarter  dan  you  be, 
Beside  she  's  not  so  healtee  place,  an'  if  you 

mak'  I'argent, 
You  spen'  it  jus'  lak  Yankee  man,  an'  not  lak 

habitant. 

For  me  Bateese!    I  tole  you  dis:    I  'm  very 

satisfy — 
De  bes'   man  don't  leev  too  long  tam,  some 

day  Ba  Gosh  !  he  die — 
An'  s'pose  you  got  good  trotter  horse,  an'  nice 

famme  Canadienne 
Wit'  plaintee  on  de  house  for  eat — W'at  more 

you  want  ma  frien'  ?  " 


But  Bateese  have  it  all  mak'  up,  I  can't  stop 

him  at  all 
He  's  buy  de  seconde  classe  tiquette,  for  go  on 

Central  Fall — 
An'  wit'  two-t'ree  some  more  de  boy, — w'at 

t'ink  de  sam'  he  do 
Pass  on   de  train   de  very  nex'  wick,  was  lef 

Riviere  du  Loup. 


How  Bateese  Came  Home       27 

Wall!  mebbe  fifteen  year  or  more,  since  Bateese 

go  away 
I   fin'   mesef  Riviere  du   Loup,  wan   cole,  cole 

winter  day 
De  quick  express  she  comehooraw!  but  stop 

de  soon  she  can 
An'  beeg  swell  feller  jomp  off  car,  dat  's  boss 

by  nigger  man. 


He  's  dressim  on  de  premiere  classe,  an'  got 

new  suit  of  clothes 
Wit'   long  moustache  dat    's  stickim   out,   de 

'noder  side  hees  nose 
Fine  gol'  watch  chain — nice  portmanteau — an' 

long,  long  overcoat 
Wit'  beaver  hat — dat  's  Yankee  style — an'  red 

tie  on  hees  t'roat — 


I  say"  Hello  Bateese!  Hello!   Comment  ca  va 

mon  vieux  ?  " 
He  say  "  Excuse  to  me,  ma  frien'   I  t'ink  I 

don't  know  you." 
I  say,  "  She  's  very  curis  t'ing,  you  are  Bateese 

Trudeau, 
Was  raise  on  jus'  sam'  place  wit'  me,  dat  's 

fifteen  year  ago  ?  " 


28  The  Habitant 

He  say,  "  Oh  yass  dat  's  sure  enouf^h — I  know 

you  now  firs'  rate, 
But  I  forget  mos'  all  ma  French  since  I  go  on 

de  State. 
Dere  's  'noder  t'ing  kip  on  your  head,  ma  frien' 

dey  mus'  be  tole 
Ma  name   's   Bateese  Trudeau   no   more,   but 

John  B.  Waterhole!" 


"  Hole  on  de  water  's  "  fonny  name  for  man 

w'at  's  call   rrudeau 
Ma  frien 's  dey  all  was  spik  lak  dat,  an'  I   am 

tole  heem  so — 
He  say  "  Trudeau   an'   Waterhole  she   's  jus' 

about  de  sam' 
An'  if  you  go  for  leev  on  State,  you  must  have 

Yankee  nam'." 


Den  we  invite  heem  come  wit'  us,  "  Hotel  du 

Canadaw  " 
Were  he  was  treat  mos'  ev'ry  tarn,  but  can't 

tak'  w'isky  blanc. 
He  say  dat  's  leetle  strong  for  man  jus'  come 

off  Central  Fall 
An'  "  tabac  Canayen  "    bedamme!    he  won't 

smoke  dat  at  all !-  — 


How  Bateese  Came  Home       29 

But  fancy  drink  lak  "  Collings  John  "  de  way- 
he  put  it  down 

Was  long  tarn  since  I  don't  see  dat — -I  t'ink 
he  's  goin'  drown  ! — 

An'  fine  cigar  cos'  five  cent  each,  an'  mak'  on 
Trois-Rivieres 

L'enfant!  he  smoke  beeg  pile  of  dem — for 
monee  he  don't  care! — 


I  s'pose  meseff  it  's  t'ree  o'clock  w'en  we  are 

t'roo  dat  night 
Bateese,   hees  fader  come  for  heem,   an'  tak' 

heem  home  all  right 
De  ole  man  say  Bateese  spik  French,  w'en  he 

is  place  on  bed — 
An'  say  bad  word — but  w'en  he  wake — forget 

it  on  hees  head — 


Wall!  all  de  winter  w'en  we  have  soiree  dat  's 

grande  affaire 
Bateese  Trudeau,  dit  Waterhole,  he  be  de  boss 

man  dere — 
You  bet  he  have  beeg  tam,  but  w'en  de  spring 

is  come  encore 
He  's  buy  de  premiere  classe  tiquette  for  go  on 

State  some  more. 


30  The  Ilabilant 

You  'member  w'cn  tic  hard  tdin  come  on  Les 

Et.'its  Uiiis 
An'   plaintee  Canayens  go   back  for  stay  deir 

own  contr^e  ? 
Wall!  jus'  about  'dat  tam  again  I  go  Riviere 

du  Loup 
For  sole  me  two  t'ree  load  of  hay — mak'  leetle 

visit  too — 


De  freight  train   she   is  jus'  arrive — only  ten 

hour  delay — 
She  's  never  carry  passengaire — dat  's  w'at  dey 

always  say — 
I  see   poor  man  on   char  caboose — he   's  got 

heem  small  valise 
Bcgosh !    I    nearly    tak'    de    fit, — It    is — it    is 

Bateese ! 


He  know  me  very  well  dis  tam,  an'  say  "Bon 

jour,  mon  vieux 
I  hope  you  know  Bateese  Trudeau  was  educate 

wit'  you 
I  'm  jus'  come  off  de  State  to  see  ma  familee 

encore 
I  bus'  mesef  on  Central  Fall — I  don't  go  dere 

no  more." 


How  Bateese  Came  Home       31 

"  I  got  no  monee — not  at  all — I  'm  broke  it  up 

for  sure — 
Dat   's   locky   t'ing,    Napoleon,    de  brakeman 

Joe  Latour 
He  's  cousin  of  wan  frien'  of  me  call  Camille 

Valiquette, 
Conductor  too  's  good  Canayen — don't  ax  me 

no  tiquette. " 


I  tak'  Bateese  wit'  me  once  more  "  Hotel  du 

Canadaw  " 
An'  he  was  glad  for  get  de  chance  drink  some 

good  w'isky  blanc ! 
Dat   's  warm   heem   up,   an   den  he  eat  mos' 

ev'ryt'ing  he  see, 
I  watch  de  w'ole  beez-nesse  mese'f — Monjee! 

he  was  hongree ! 


Madame  Charette  wat  's  kip  de  place  get  very 

much  excite 
For  see  de  many  pork  an'  bean  Bateese  put  out 

of  sight 
Du  pain  dor^ — potate  pie — an'  'noder  t'ing  be 

dere 
But  w'en  Bateese  is  get  heem  t'roo — dey  go  I 

don't  know  w'ere. 


32  The  Habitant 

It  don't  tak'  long  for  tolc  dc  news  "  Batecse 
come  off  dc  State  " 

An'  purty  soon  we  have  beeg  crowd,  lak  vil- 
lage she  's  en  fete 

Bonhomme  Maxime  Trudeau  hese'f,  he  's 
comin'  wit'  dc  pries' 

An'  pass'  heein  on  de  "  Room  for  eat  "  w'ere 
he  is  see  Bateese. 


Den  ev'rybody  feel  it  glad,  for  watch  de  em- 

brasser 
An'   bimeby  de  ole   man  spik  "  Bateese  you 

here  for  stay  ?  " 
Bateese  he   's  cry  lak   beeg  beb^,  "  Ba  j'eux 

rester  ici. 
An  if  I  never  see  de  State,  I  *m  sure  I  don't 

care — me." 


'  Correc',"  Maxime  is  say  right  off,  "  I  place 

)'ou  on  de  farm 
P'or  help  your  poor  ole  fader,  won't  do  you  too 

moche  harm 
Please  come  wit'  me  on  Magasin,  I  feex  you 

up — ba  oui 
An'  den  you  're  ready  for  go  home  an'  see  de 

familee." 


How  Bateese  Came  Home      33 

Wall!  w'en  de  ole  man  an'  Bateese  come  off  de 
Magasin 

Bateese  is  los'  hees  Yankee  clothes — he  's  dress 
lak  Canayen 

Wit'  bottes  sauvages—  ceinture  flech^  —  an' 
coat  wit*  capuchon 

An*  spik  Fran^ais  au  naturel,  de  sam'  as  habi- 
tant. 

•  •••••• 

I  see  Bateese  de  oder  day,  he  's  work  hees 
fader's  place 

I  t'ink  mese'f  he  's  satisfy — I  see  dat  on  hees 
face 

He  say  "  1  got  no  use  for  State,  mon  cher  Na- 
poleon 

Kebeck  she  's  good  enough  for  me — Hooraw 
pour  Canadaw. " 


A-tis^' 


V 


feyj-r 


■  ;  NICE  LEETLE    U^ 
'CANADIENNE 


■i^5* 


""^O^'  J- 


YOU  can  pass  on  de  worl*  w'erever  you  lak, 
lak'  de  steamboat  for  go  Angleterre, 
Tak'  car  on  de  State,  an'  den  you  come  back, 

An'  go  all  de  place,  I  don't  care — 
Ma  frien'  dat  's  a  fack,  I  know  you  will  say, 

Wen  you  come  on  dis  contree  again, 
Dere  's  no  girl  can  touch,  w'at  we  see  ev'ry  day, 
De  nice  leetle  Canadienne. 

Don't  matter  how  poor  dat  girl  she  may  be, 

Her  dress  is  so  neat  an'  so  clean, 
Mos'  ev'rywan  t'ink  it  was  mak'  on  Paree 

An'  she  wear  it,  wall!  jus'  lak  de  Queen. 


34 


De  Nice  Leetle  Canadienne     35 

Den  come  for  fin'  out  she  is  mak'  it  herse'f, 
For  she  ain't  i^ot  moche  nionce  for  spen', 
But  all  de  sam'  tarn,  she  was  never  get  lef, 
Dat  nice  leetle  Canadienne. 

Wen  "  un  vrai  Canayen  "  is  mak'  it  marine, 

You  t'ink  he  go  leev  on  beeg  flat 
An'  bodder  hese'f  all  de  tarn,  night  an'  day, 

Wit'  housemaid,  an'  cook,  an'  all  dat  ? 
Not  moche,  ma  dear  frien',  he  tak'  de  maisoOj 

Cos'  only  nine  dollar  or  ten, 
Were  he  leev  lak  blood  rooster,  an'  save  de 
I'argent, 

Wit'  hees  nice  leetle  Canadienne. 

I  marry  ma  famme  w'en  I  'm  jus'  twenty  year, 

An'  now  we  got  fine  familee, 
Dat  skip  roun'  de  place  lak  leetle  small  deer, 

No  smarter  crowd  you  never  see — 
An'  I  t'ink  as  I  watch  dem  all  chasin'  about. 

Four  boy  an'  six  girl,  she  mak'  ten, 
Dat  's  help  mebbe  kip  it,  de  stock  from  run  outj 
Of  de  nice  leetle  Canadienne. 

O  she  's  quick  an'  she  's  smart,  an'  got  plain 
tee  heart, 

If  you  know  correc'  way  go  about, 
An'  if  you  don't  know,  she  soon  tole  you  so 

Den  tak'  de  firs'  chance  an'  get  out; 


36  The  Habitant 

But  if  she  love  you,  I  spik  it  for  true, 
She  will  mak'  it  more  beautiful  den, 
An'  sun  on  de  sky  can't  shine  lak  de  eye 
Of  dat  nice  leetle  Canadienne. 


'ivW^^'r:^ 


TOLEON    DORE. 

A  TALE   OF   THE   SAINT   MAURICE. 

YOU  have  never  hear  de  story  of  de  young 
Napoleon  Dore  ? 
Los'  hees  Hfe  upon  de  reever  w'en  de  lumber 
drive  go  down  ? 
Were  de  rapide  roar  lak  tonder,  dat  's  de  place 
he  's  goin'  onder, 
W'en  he  's  try  save  Paul  Desjardins,  'Poleon 
hese'f  is  drown. 


All  de  winter  on  de  Shaintee,  tarn  she  *s  good, 
and  work  she  's  p^aintee, 
But  we  're  not  feel  very  sorry,  w'en  de  sun 
is  warm  hees  face, 
W'en  de  mooshrat  an'  de  beaver,  tak'  some 
leetle  swim  on  reever. 
An'  de  sout*  win'  scare  de  snowbird,  so  she 
fly  some  col'er  place. 


37 


38  The  Habitant 

Den  de  spring  is  set  in  steady,  an'  we  get  de 
log  all  ready, 
Workin'   hard  all  day  an'  night   too,  on  de 
water  mos'  de  tarn, 
An   de  skeeter  w'en  dey  fin'  us,  come  so  quickly 
nearly  blin'  us, 
Biz — biz — biz — biz — all  aroun'  us  till  we  feel 
lak  sacredam. 


All  de  sam'  we  're  hooraw  feller,  from  de  top 
of  house  to  cellar, 
Ev'ry  boy  he  's  feel  so  happy,  w'en  he  's 
goin'  right  away, 
See  hees  fader  an'  hees  moder,  see  hees  sister 
an'  hees  broder, 
An'  de  girl  he  spark  las'  summer,  if  she  's 
not  get  mariee. 


Wall  we  start  heem  out  wan  morning,  an'  de 
pilot  geev  us  warning, 
W'en  you   come    on    Rapide    Cuisse,    ma 
frien',  keep  raf  she's  head  on  shore. 
If  you   struck  beeg  rock  on   middle,   w'ere  le 
diable  is  play  hees  fiddle, 
Dat  's  de  tam  you  pass  on  some  place,  you 
don't  never  pass  before." 


'Poleon  Dore  39 

But  we  '11  not  t'ink  moche  of  danger,  for  de 
rapide  she  's  no  stranger 
Many  tarn  we  're  runnin'  t'roo  it,  or  de  fall 
an'  on  de  spring, 
On  mos'  ev'ry  kin'  of  wedder  dat  le  Bon  Dieu 
scrape  togedder, 
An'  we  '11  never  drown  noboddy,  an'  we  '11 
never  bus'  somet'ing. 


Dere  was  Telesphore  Montbriand,  Paul  Desjar- 
dins,  Louis  Guyon, 
Bill    McKeever,    Aleck    Gauthier,  an'    hees 
cousin  Jean  Bateese, 
'Poleon  Dore,  Aime  Beaulieu,  wit'  some  more 
man  I  can't  tole  you, 
Dat  was  mak'  it  bes'  gang  never  run  upon  de 
St.  Maurice. 


Dis  is  jus'  de  tam  I  wish  me,  I  could  spik  de 
good  English — me — 
For  tole  you  of  de  pleasuremcnt  we  get  upon 
de  spring, 
Wen  de  win'   she  's  all  a  sleepin',  an'  dc  raf* 
she  go  a  sweepin' 
Down  de  reever  on  some  morning,  w'ile  le 
rossignol  is  sing. 


40  The  Habitant 

Ev'rj't'iiig  so  nice  an'  quiet  on  dc  shore  as  wc 
pass  by  it, 
All   dc  tree  got  fine   new  spring  suit,  cv'ry 
wan  she's  dress  on  green 
W'y  it  mak'  us  all  more  younger,  an'  we  don't 
feel  any  hunger, 
Till  de  cook  say  "  'Raw  for  breakfas',"  den 
we  smell  de  pork  an'  bean. 


Some  folk  say  she  's  bad  for  leever,  but  for  man 
work  hard  on  rcevcr, 
Dat  's  de  bes'  t'ing  I  can  tole  you,  dat  was 
never  yet  be  seen, 
Course  dere  's  oder  t'injj  ah  tak'  me,  fancy  dish 
also  I  lak  me, 
But  w'en  I  want  somet'ing  solid,  please  pass 
me  de  pork  an'  bean. 


All  dis  tam  de  raf  she  's  goin'  lak  steamboat 
was  got  us  towin' 
All  we  do  is  keep  de  channel,  an'  dat  's  easy 
workin'  dere, 
So  we  sing  some  song  an'  chorus,  for  de  good 
tam  dat  's  before  us, 
W'en  de  w'ole  beez-nesse  she  's  finish,  an' 
we  come  on  Trois  Rivieres. 


'Poleon  Dore  4^ 

But  bad  luck  is  sometam   fetch   us,    for  beeg 
strong  win'  come  an'  ketch  us, 
Jus'   so  soon  we  struck   de   rapide — jus'    so 
soon  we  see  dc  smoke, 
An'  before  we  spik  some  prayer  for  ourse'f  dat 
's  fightin'  dere, 
Roun'  we  come  upon  de  beeg  rock,  an'  it  's 
den  de  raf  she  broke. 


Dat  was  tarn  poor  Paul   Desjardins,    from   de 
parish  of  St.  Germain, 
He  was  long  way  on  de  fronte  side,  so  he  's 
fallin'  overboar' 
Could  n't  swim   at  all  de  man  say,  but  dat's 
more  ma  frien',  I  can  say. 
Any  how  he  's  look  lak  drownin',  so  we  '11 
t'row  him  two  t'ree  oar. 


Dat  's  'bout  all  de  help  our  man  do,  dat  's 
'bout  ev'ryt'ing  we  can  do, 
As  de  crib  we  're  hangin'  onto  balance  on 
de  rock  itse'f, 
Till  de  young    Napoleon  Dor6,   heem  I  start 
for  tole  de  story. 
Holler  out,  "  Mon  Dieu,  I  don't  lak  see  poor 
Paul  go  drown  hese'f. " 


42  The  IIal)itant 

So  he  's  niak'  bcc<^  jomp  on  water,  jus'  dc  sam 
you  see  some  otter 
An'  he  's  pass  on  place  w'ere  Paul  is  tryin' 
hard  for  keep  afloat, 
Oen  we  see  Napoleon  ketch   heem,   try  hees 
possibill  for  fetch  hccm 
But  de  current  she  's  more  stronger,  an'  de 
eddy  get  dem  bote. 


O  Mon  Dieu !  for  see  dem  two  man,  mak'  me 
feel  it  crv  iak  woman, 
Roun'  an'  roun'  upon  de  eddy,  quickly  dem 
poor  feller  go, 
Can't  tole  wan  man    from   de  odor,  an'  we  '11 
know  dem  bote  Iak  broder, 
But  de  fight  she  soon    is   finish — Paul    an' 
'Poleon  go  below. 


Yass,  an'  all  de  tarn  we  stay  dcre,  only  t'ing 
we  do  is  pray  dere, 
For    de    soul    poor    drownin'    feller,    dat  's 
enough  mak'  us  feel  mad, 
Tortecn  voyageurs,  all  brave  man,  glad  get  any 
chances  save  man, 
But  w'e  don't  see  no  good  chances,  can't  do 
not'ing,  dat  's  too  bad. 


'Poleon  Dore  43 

Wall!    at  las'  de  crib  she  's  come  way  off  de 
rock,  an'  den  on  some  way, 
By  an'  by  de  w'ole  gang  's  passin'   on  safe 
place  below  de  Cuisse, 
Ev'ryboddy's  heart  she  's  breakin',  w'en  dey 
see  poor  Paul  he  's  taken 
Wit'  de  young  Napoleon  Dore,  bes'  boy  on 
de  St.  Maurice! 


An'  day  affer,  Bill  McKeever  fin'  de  bote  man 
on  de  reever, 
Wit'  deir  arm  aroun'  each  oder,  mebbe  pass 
above  dat  way — 
So  we  bury  dem  as  we  fin'  dem,  w'ere  de  pine 
tree  wave  behin'  dem 
An  de  Grande  Montagne  he  's  lookin'  down 
on  Marcheterre  Bay. 


You  can't  hear  no  church  bell  ring  dere,  but  le 
rossignol  is  sing  dere. 
An'  w'ere  ole  red  cross  she  's  stannin',  mcbbe 
some  good  ange  gardien, 
Watch  de  place  w'ere  bote  man  sleepin',  keep 
de  reever  grass  from  creepin' 
On  de  grave  of   'Poleon  Dore,  an'  of  poor 
Paul  Desjardins. 


63 


PC 


DC  N(MIQE  ^' ;|^ 
PUBLIQUE  M& 


"^i^'^. 


M 


^^v-'~^. 


'siEU  Paul  Joulin, 
dc  Notaire  Pub- 
lic[ue 
Is     come     I    s'pose    ^llh]., 
seexty   year    hees  ■  /Ifll'''' 
life 
An'  de  inos'  riche  man  on  ^ 

Sainte  Angelique  "^^ 

Wen  he  feel  very  sorry 
he  got  no  wife — 
So  he  's  paint  heem  hees 
buggy,  lak  new,  by  Gor! 
Put  flower  on  hees  coat,  mak'  hesc'f  more 
gay 
Arrange  on  hees  head  fine  chapeau  castor 
An'  drive  on  de  house  of  de  Boulan<rcr. 


For  de  Boulanger  's  got  heem  une  joHe  fille 
Mos'  bes'  lookin'  girl  on  jjaroisse  dey  say 


ft 


'^De  Notaire  Publique"         45 

An'  all  de  young  feller  is  lak  Julie 

An'  plaintee  is  ax  her  for  mak'  marine, 

But  Julie  she  's  love  only  jus'  wan  man, 
Hees  nam'  it  is  Jeremie  Dandurand 

An'  he  's  work  for  her  sak'  all  de  hard  he  can' 
'Way  off  on  de  wood,  up  de  Mattawa. 

M'Sieu  Paul  he  spik  him  "  Bonjour  Mamzelle 

You  lak  promenade  on  de  church  wit'  me  ? 
Jus'  wan  leetle  word  an'  we  go  ma  belle 

An'  see  heem  de  Cure  toute  suite,  cherie; 
I  dress  you  de  very  bes'  style  a  la  mode. 

If  you  promise  for  be  Madame  Paul  Joulin, 
For  I  got  me  fine  house  on  Bord  a  Plouffe  road 

Wit'  mor'gage  also  on  de  Grande  Moulin." 

But  Julie  she  say  "  Non,  non,  M'Sieu  Paul, 

Dat  's  not  correc'  t'ing  for  poor  Jeremie 
For  I  love  dat  young  feller  lak  not'ing  at  all, 

An'  I  'm  very  surprise  you  was  not  know  me. 
Jeremie  w'en  he  's  geev  me  dat  nice  gol'  ring, 

Las'  tam  he  's  gone  off  on  de  Mattawa 
Say  he  's  got  'noder  wan  w'en  he  's  come  nex' 
spring 

Was  mak'  me  for  sure  Madame  Dandurand. 

"  I  t'ank  you  de  sam'  M'Sieu  Paul  Joulin 
I  s'pose  I  mus'  be  de  wife  wan  poor  man 


46  The  Habitant 

Wit'  no  chance  at  all  for  dc  Grande  Moulin, 
But  Icev  all  dc  tarn  on  some  small  cabane." 

De  Notaire  Publiquc  den  is  tak'  hees  hat, 
For  he  t'ink  sure  enough  dut  hccs  dog  she  's 
dead ; 

Dere  's  no  use  mak'  love  on  de  girl  lak  dat. 
Wit'  not'ing  but  young  feller  on  de  head. 


Julie  she  's  feel  lonesome  mos'  all  dat  week, 

Don't  know  w'at  may  happen  she  wait  till 
spring 
Den  t'ink  de  fine  house  of  Notaire  Publiquc 

An'   plaintee  more  too — but   love   's  funny 
t'ing! 
So  nex'  tarn  she  see  de  Notaire  again, 

She  laugh  on  her  eye  an'  say  "  M'Sieu  Paul 
Please  pass  on  de  house,  or  you  ketch  de  rain, 

Dat  's  very  long  tarn  you  don't  come  at  all." 


She  's  geev  him  so  soon  he  's  come  on  dc  door 

Du  vin  de  pays,  an'  some  nice  galettes, 
She  's  mak'  dem  herse'f  only  day  before 

An'  he  say  "  Bigosh !  dat  is  fine  girl  yet." 
So  he  's  try  hees  chances  some  more — hooraw! 

Julie  is  not  mak'  so  moche  troub'  dis  tam ; 
She  's  forget  de  poor  Jeremie  Dandurand 

An'  tole  de  Notaire  she  will  be  hees  famme. 


"  De  Notarie  Publique  "        47 

Wen  Jeremie  come  off  de  wood  nex'  spring, 
An'  fin'  dat  hees  girl  she  was  get  mariee 

Everybody  's  expec'  he  will  do-somet'ing, 
But  he  don't  do  not'ing  at  all,  dey  say; 

For  he  's  got  'noder  girl  on  Sainte  Doroth^e, 
Dat  he  's  love  long  tarn,  an'  she  don't  say 

<  <     "XT  •  > 

No, 
So  he  's  forget  too  all  about  Julie 
An'  mak'  de  mariee  wit'  hese'f  also. 


.,.  ..'^^ 


A 


i. 


CANADIAN  ktt 

ACCOUNT 
THE  NIL"^ 
EXPEDITIO 


MAXIM E    LABELLE." 


VTCTORIAW:  she  have  beeg  war,  E-gyp  's 
de  nam'  de  place — 
An'  ncegcr  peep  dat  's  leev  'ini  dcre,  got  very 

black  de  face, 
An'  so  she  's  write  Joseph  Mercier,  he  's  stop 

on  Trois  Rivieres — 
"  Please  come  right  off,  an'  bring  wit'  you  t'ree 
honder  voyageurs. 

48 


"Maxime  Labelle"  49 

I  got  de  plaintee  sojer,  me,  beeg  feller  six  foot 
tall  - 

Dat  's  Englishman,  an'  Scotch  also,  don't  wear 
no  pant  at  all ; 

Of  course,  de  Irishman  's  de  bes',  raise  all  de 
row  he  can, 

But  noboddy  can  pull  batteau  lak  good  Cana- 
dian man. 


I  geev  you  steady  job  for  sure,  an'  w'en  you 
get  'im  t'roo 
I  bring  you  back  on  Canadaw,  don't  cos'  de 

man  un  sou, 
Dat  's  firs'-class  steamboat  all  de  way  Kebeck 

an'  Leeverpool, 
An'  if  you  don't  be  satisfy,  you  mus'  be  beeg, 
,beeg  fool." 


We  meet  upon  Hotel  Dufresne,  an'  talk  heem 
till  daylight, 

An'  Joe  he  's  treat  so  many  tam,  we  very  near 
get  tight, 

Den  affer  w'ile,  we  mak'  our  min'  dat  's  not 
bad  chance,  an'  so 

Joseph  Mercier  he  's  telegraph,  "  Correc',  Ma- 
dame, we  go." 


50  The  Habitant 

So  Joe  arraiii^c  dc  whole  beez-iiesse  wit'  Queen 

Victoriaw ; 
Two  dollar  day — work  all  de  tarn — dat  's  purty 

good  r argent! 
An'  w'en  we  start  on  Trois  Rivieres,  for  pass 

on  boar'  de  ship, 
Our  frien'  dey  all  say,  "  Bon  voyage,"  an'  den 

Hooraw!  E-gyp' ! 


Dat  beeg  <>teamboat  was  plonge  so  moche,  I  'm 

'fraitl  she  never  stop — 
De  Capitaine  's  no  use  at  all,  can't  kip  her  on 

de  top — 
An'  so  we  all  come  very  sick,  jus'  lak  one  leetle 

An*  ev'ry  tarn  de  ship  's  go  down,  de  inside 
she  's  go  up. 


1    'm    sorry   spoke   lak   dis,    ma   frien',    if   you 

don't  t'ink  it  's  so. 
Please  ax  Joseph  Mercier  hese'f,  or  Aleck  De 

Courteau, 
Dat  stay  on  bed  mos'  all  de  tam,  so  sick  dey 

nearly  die, 
But  lak'  some  great,  beeg  Yankee  man,  was 

never  tole  de  lie. 


"Maxime  Labelle"  5^ 

De  gang  she  's  travel,  travel,  t'roo  many 
strange  contree, 

An'  ev'ry  place  is  got  new  nam',  I  don't  re- 
member, me, 

We  see  some  fonny  t'ing,  for  sure,  more  fonny 
I  can  tell. 

But  w'en  we  reach  de  Neel  Riviere,  dat  *s  feel 
more  naturel. 


So  many  fine,  beeg  sojer  man,  I  never  see  be- 
fore, 

All  dress  heem  on  grand  uniform,  is  wait  upon 
de  shore, 

Some  black,  some  green,  an'  red  also,  cos' 
bonder  dollar  sure. 

An'  holler  out,  "  She  's  all  right  now,  here 
come  de  voyageurs!  " 


We  see  boss  Generale  also,  he  's  ride  on  beeg 

chameau, 
Dat  's  w'at  you  call  Ca-melle,  I  t'ink,  I  laugh 

de  way  she  go  ! 
Jomp  up,  jomp  down,  jomp  ev'ry  place,  but 

still  de  Generale 
Seem  satisfy  for  stay  on  top,  dat  fonny  an-i- 

mal. 


52  The  Habitant 

He  's  hullcr  out  on  Joe   Mcrcicr,  "  Coninicnt 

ca  va  Joseph 
You  lak  for  come  right  off  wit'  me,  tak'  leetle 

ride  yourseff  ?  " 
Joseph,  he  mak'  de  grand  salut,  an'  tak'  it  off 

hees  hat, 
Merci,  Mon  Gcnerale,"  he  say,  "  I  got  no  use 

for  dat. " 


Den   affcr  we   was   drink   somet'ing,    an'    sing 

Le  Brigadier," 
De  sojer  fellers  get  prepare,  for  mak'  de  em- 

barquer. 
An'   everybody   's   shout   licem   out,   w'en    we 

tak'  hole  de  boat 
"  Hooraw   pour  Queen   Victoriaw !  "   an'  also 

"  pour  nous  autres." 


Bigosh  ;  I  do  hard  work  mese'f  upon  de  Ot- 
tawa, 

De  Gatineau  an'  St.  Maurice,  also  de  Mat- 
tawa. 

But  I  don't  never  work  at  all,  I  'sure  you  dat  's 
a  fack 

Until  we  strike  de  Neel  Riviere,  an'  sapre 
Catarack ! 


''Maxime  Labelle"  53 

"  Dis  way,  dat  way,  can't  keep  her  straight," 

look  out,  Bateese,  look  out !  " 
"  Now  let  her  go  " — "  arrete  un  peu,"  dat  's 

way  de  pilot  shout, 
"  Don't  wash  de   neeger  girl   on   shore,"   an' 

prenez  garde  behin'," 
"  Wat 's  matter  wit'  dat  rudder  man  ?     It' ink 
he  's  goin'  blin' !  " 


Some  tam  of  course,  de  boat  's  all  right,  an' 
carry  us  along 

An'  den  again,  we  mak  portage,  w'en  current 
she  's  too  strong 

On  place  lak'  dat,  we  run  good  chance,  for  sun- 
struck  on  de  neck. 

An'  plaintee  tam  we  wish  ourseff  was  back  on 
ole  Kebeck. 


De  seconde  Catarack  we  pass,  more  beeger  dan 
de  Soo, 

She  's  nearly  t'orty  mile  for  sure,  it  would  as- 
tonish you, 

Dat  's  place  t'ree  Irishman  get  drown,  wan  day 
we  have  beeg  storm, 

I  s'pose  de  Queen  is  feel  lak  cry,  los'  dat  nice 
uniform ! 


54  The  Habitant 

De  night  she  's  very,  very  cole,  an'  hot  upon 

de  day, 
An'  all  de  tarn,  you  feel  jus'  lak  you  're  goin' 

melt  away, 
But  never  min'  an*  don't  get  scare,  you  mak' 

it  up  all  right, 
An'   twenty   poun'    you    los'    dat   day,    rhe    's 

comin'  back  sam'  night. 


We  got  small  bugle  boy  also,  he  's  mebbe  stan' 

four  foot. 
An'  firs'  t'ing  ev'ry  morning,  sure,  he  mak'  it 

toot!  toot!  toot! 
She  's  nice  enough  upon  de  day,  for  hear  de 

bugle  call. 
But  w'en  she  play  before  daylight,  I  don't  lak 

dat  at  all. 


We  mus'   get   up   inmiediatement,    dat    leetle 

feller  blow. 
An'   so  we  start  heem  off  again,    for  pull  de 

beeg  batteau, 
De  sojer  man  he  's  nice,  nice  boy,  an'  help  us 

all  he  can. 
An'  geev  heem  chance,  he  's  mos'  as  good  lak 

some  Canadian  man. 


"  Maxime  Labelle  "  55 

Wall  all  de  tarn,  she  go  lak  dat,  was  busy  every 

day, 
Don't  get  moche  chance  for  foolish-ness,  don't 

get  no  chance  for  play, 
Dere  's  plaintee  danger   all  aroun',  an'  w'en 

we  're  comin'  back 
We  got  look  out  for  run  heem  safe,  dem  sapre 

Catarack. 


But  w'ere  's  de  war  ?     I  can't  mak'  out,  don't 

see  no  fight  at  all! 
She  's  not'ing  but  une  Grande  Piqnique,  dat  's 

las'  in  all  de  fall ! 
Mebbe  de  neeger  King  he  's  scare,  an'  skip 

anoder  place, 
An'  pour  la  Reine  Victoriaw!  I  never  see  de 

face. 


But  dat  's  not  ma  beez-nesse,  ma  frien',  I  'm 

ready  pull  batteau 
So  long  she  pay  two  dollar  day,  wit'  pork  an' 

bean  also ; 
An'  if  she  geev  me  steady  job,  for  mak'  some 

more  I'argent, 
I  say,   "  Hooraw!    for  all  de  tarn,    on  Queen 

Victoriaw!  " 


^NM 


O   SPIRIT  of  the  mountain  tliat  speaks  to 
us  to-ni^^ht, 
Your  voice  is  sad,  yet  still  recalls  past  visions 

of  delight, 
When   'mid   the   grand   old    Laurentidcs,    old 

when  the  earth  was  new. 
With   flying  feet  we  followed  the  moose  and 
caribou. 

And  backward  rush  swoct  memories,  like  frag- 
ments of  a  dream, 

We  hear  the  dip  of  paddle  blades,  the  ripple  of 
the  stream, 


5«> 


Memories  57 

The  mad,  mad  rush  of  frightened  wings  from 

brake  and  covert  start, 
The  breathing  of  the  woodland,  the  throb  of 

nature's  heart. 


Once  more  beneath  our  eager  feet  the  forest 

carpet  springs. 
We  march  through  gloomy  valleys,  where  the 

vesper  sparrow  sings. 
The  little  minstrel  heeds  us  not,  nor  stays  his 

plaintive  song. 
As  with  our  brave  coureurs  de  bois  we  swiftly 

pass  along. 

Again  o'er  dark  Wayagamack,   in  bark  canoe 

we  glide, 
And  watch  the  shades  of  evening  glance  along 

the  mountain  side. 
Anon  we  hear  resounding  the   wizard    loon's 

wild  cry, 
And  mark  the  distant  peak  whereon  the  lin- 

g'ring  echoes  die. 

But   Spirit  of  the  Northland!  let  the  winter 

breezes  blow, 
And  cover  every  giant  crag  with  rifts  of  driving 

snow. 


58  The  Habitant 

Freeze  every  leaping  torrent,  bind  all  the  crys- 
tal lakes, 

Tell  us  of  fiercer  pleasures  when  the  Storm 
King  awakes. 

And   now  the  vision  changes,   tiie   winds  arc 

loud  and  shrill. 
The  falling  flakes  are  shrouding  the  mountain 

and  the  hill. 
But  safe  within  our  snug  cabane  with  comrades 

gathered  near, 
We  set  the  rafters  ringing  with  "  Roulant  " 

and  "  Brigadier." 


Then  after  Pierre  and  Telesphore  have  danced 

"  Le  Caribou," 
Some  hardy  trapper  tells  a  tale  of  the  dreaded 

Loup  Garou, 
Or  phantom   bark   in    moonlit    heavens,    with 

prow  turned  to  the  East, 
Bringing  the  Western   voyageurs  to  join   the 

Christmas  feast. 

And     while    each    backwoods    troubadour    is 

greeted  with  huzza 
Slowly  the  homely  incense  of  "  tabac  Cana- 

yen 


Memories  59 

Rises  and   sheds  its  perfume  like  flowers    of 

Araby, 
O  'er   all    the  true-born  loyal    Enfants   de   la 
Patrie. 


And  thus  with  song  and  story,  with  laugh  and 

jest  and  shout, 
We  heed   not   dropping  mercury    nor   storms 

that  rage  without, 
But  pile  the  huge  logs  higher  till  the  chimney 

roars  with  glee. 
And  banish  spectral  visions  with  La  Chanson 

Normandie. 

Brigadier!  r^pondit  Pandore 
Brigadier!  vous  avez  raison, 
Brigadier!  repondit  Pandore, 
Brigadier!  vous  avez  raison!  " 

O  spirit   of  the  mountain !  that  speaks  to  us 

to-night, 
Return  again  and  bring  us  new  dreams  of  past 

delight. 
And  while  our  heart-throbs  linger,  and  till  our 

pulses  cease, 
We  '11    worship    thee    among   the    hills  where 

flows  the  Saint-Maurice. 


,y 


^ 


/,'./, 


PHRDRUM 
I  JUNEAU 


^ 


A   STORY   OF   THE    "  CHASSE    GALLERIE. 

In  the  days  of  the  "Old  Regime"  in  Canada,  the  free  life 
of  the  woods  and  prairies  proved  too  teiupliny;  for  the  young 
men,  who  frequently  deserted  civilization  for  the  savage  de- 
lights of  the  wilderness.  These  voyageurs  and  coiireurs  de  hois 
seldom  returned  in  the  flesh,  hut  on  every  New  Year's  Eve, 
back  thro'  snowstorm  and  hurricane — in  mid-air — came  their 
spirits  in  ghostly  canoes,  to  join,  for  a  brief  spell,  the  old  folks 
at  home  and  kiss  the  girls,  on  the  annual  feast  of  the  "Jour 
deran,"or  New  Year's  Hay.  The  legend  which  still  survives 
in  French-speaking  Canada,  is  known  as  "  La  Chasse  (Jallerie." 


Co 


Phil-o-rum  Juneau  6i 

HE  sit  on  de  corner  mos'   every  night,  ole 
Phil-o-rum  Juneau, 
Spik  wit'  hese'f  an'  shake  de  head,  an'  smoke 

on  de  pipe  also — 
Very  hard  job  it  's  for  wake  him  up,  no  matter 

de  loud  we  call 
Wen  he  's  feex  hese'f  on  de  beeg  arm-chair, 
back  on  de  kitchen  vv^all. 


He   don't   believe  not'incr  at  all,   at  all    'bout 

lates'  new  fashion  t'ing 
Le  char  'lectrique  an'  de  tclephome,  was  talk 

w'en  de  bell  she  ring 
Dat  's  leetle  too  moche  for  de  ole  bonhomme, 

mak'  him  shake  it  de  head  an'  say 
"  Wat's   use   mak'    de   foolish  lak  dat,   sapre! 

I  'm  not  bora  only  yesterday." 


But  if  you  want  story  dat  *s  true,  true,  true,  1 

tole  you  good  wan  moi-meme 
An  de  t'ing  you  was  spik,  dat  I  don't  believe, 

for  sure  she  was  beat  all  dem. 
So  he  's  cough  leetle  cough,  clear   'im  up  de 

t'roat,  fill  hees  pipe  wit'  some  more  tabac. 
An'  w'en  de  chil'ren  is  come  tranquille,  de  ole 

man  begin  comme  ca. 


62  The  Habitant 

L'ciifanl!  rcnfant!    it   's    very    strange    t'ingl 

niak'  mc  laugh  too  w'cn  I  hear 
Do  young  peep  talk  of  de  long,  long  tarn  of 

seventy,  eighty  year  I 
Dat  's  only  be  jus'  eighty  New  Year  Day,  an' 

quickly  was  pass  it  by 
It  's  beeg,  beeg  dream,  an'  you  don't  wake  up, 

till  affer  you  're  comin'  die. 


Dat  's  true  sure  enough,  you  see  curi's  t'ing, 

if  you  only  leev  leetle  w'ile, 
So  long  you    got  monee  go  all  de  place,  for 

mebbe  t'ree  t'ousan'  mile, 
But  monee  's  not  everyt'ing  on  dis  worl',  I  tole 

you  dat,  mes  amis. 
An'  man  can  be  ole  lak'  two  bonder  year,  an' 

not  see  it,  La  Chasse  Gal'rie. 


I  never  forget  de  fine  New  Year  ni'ght,  nearly 

seexty  year  ago. 
Wen  I  'm  lef  it  our  place  for  attend  soiree,  on 

ole  Maxime  Baribault, 
Nine  mile  away,  I  can  see  tin  roof,  on  church 

of  de  St.  Joseph, 
An'  over  de  snow,  de  leaf  dat  die  las'  fall,  was 

chasin'  itse'f. 


Phil-o-rum  Juneau  63 

Dere  was  some  of  de  neighbor  house  I  call, 

dat  's  be  de  ole  fashion  style, 
An'  very  nice  style  too,  mes  amis,  I  hope  she 

will  las'  long  w'ile, 
I  shak'  it  de  han',  I  drink  sante,  an'  kiss  it  de 

girl  she  's  face. 
So  it  's  come  ten  o'clock,  w'en  I  pass  on  road, 

for  visit  Maxime  hees  place. 


But  I  'm  not  go  more  mebbe  t'ree  arpent,  w'en 

de  sky  is  get  black  all  roun'. 
An'  de  win'  she  blow  lak  I  never  see,  an'  de 

beesf  snowstorm  come  down. 
I  mak'  it  my  min'  she  's  goin'  be  soon,  de  very 

bad  night  for  true, 
Dat  's  locky  I  got  plaintee  whiskey  lef,  so  I 

tak'  it  wan  leetle  "  coup." 


Purty  quick  affer  dat,  I  'm  comin'  nice  place, 

was  stan'in'  some  fine  beeg  tree 
Were  de  snow  don't  dreef ,   an'  it  seem  jus' 

lak  dat  place  it  is  mak'  for  me, 
So  I  pass  it  on  dere,  for  mak'  safe  mese'f,  w'ile 

de  storm  is  blovv^  outside. 
As  if  all  de  devil  on  hell  below,  was  tak'  heem 

some  fancy  ride. 


64  The  Hal)it:int 

Wan  red  fox  he  's  comin'  so  close,  so  close,  1 

could  ketch  him  wit'  dc  han', 
Hut  not  on  dc  tani  lak  dis  ma  frien',  "  Marche 

toi  all  dc  quick  you  can," 
Poor  feller  he  's  tire  an'  seem  los'  bees  way, 

an'  w'cn  he  rcacli  home  dat  ni^ht 
Mebbe  he  fm'  it  all  was  close  up,  an'  de  door 

it  was  fassen  tight. 


But  w'at  is  dat  soun'   mak'   de  hair  stan'  up, 

w'at  is  it  mean,  dat  cry  ? 
Comin'  over  dc  high   tree  top,  out  of  de  nor'- 

wes'  sky 
Lak  cry  of  dc  wil'   goose  w'cn  she  pass  on  de 

spring  tam  an'  de  fall. 
But  wil'  goose  fly  on  de  winter  night!     I  never 

see  dat  at  all. 


On,  on  t'roo  de  night,  she  is  quickly  come^ 
more  closer  all  de  tam, 

But  not  lak  dc  cry  of  some  wil'  bird  now,  don't 
seem  it  at  all  de  sam' ; 

An'  den  wit'  de  rush  of  de  win',  I  hear  some- 
body sing  chanson 

An'  de  song  dey  sing  is  de  olc,  ole  song,  "  Le 
Canayen  Errant." 


Phil-o-rum  Juneau  65 

But  it  's  mak'  mc  lonesome  an'  scare  also,  jus' 

sam'  I  be  goin'  for  die 
Wen  I  lissen  dat  song  on  night  lak  dis,  so  far 

away  on  de  sky, 
Don't  know  w'at  to  do  at  all  mese'f,  so  I  go 

w'ere  I  have  good  view, 
An'    up,   up   above   t'roo   de  storm  an'   snow. 

she  's  comin'  wan  beeg  canoe. 


Den  somebody  call  it  ma  nam'  out  loud,  firs* 

tam  it  was  scare  me  so, 
We  know  right  away,  dat  was  you  be  dere, 

hello  Phil-o-rum,  hello!  " 
An'   soon   I  see  him  dat  feller  spik,  I  'member 

him  too  mese'f. 
We  go  de  sam'  school  twenty  year  before,  hees 

nam's  Telesphore  Le  Boeuf. 


But  I  know  on  de  way  canoe  she  go,  dat  de 

crowd  he  mus'  be  dead  man 
Was  come  from  de  Grande  Riviere  du  Nord, 

come  from  Saskatchewan, 
Come  too  from  all  de  place  is  lie  on  de  Hodson 

Bay  Contree, 
An'  de  t'ing  I  was  see  me  dat  New  Year  night, 

is  le  phantome  Chasse  Gal'rie. 


66  The  Ihibitant 

An'  many  de  boy   I  was  sec  him  dcrc,  I  know 

him  so  long  before 
He  's  goin'  away  on  dc  far  contrec — for  never 

return  no  more — 
An'  now  on  phantome  he  is  comin'  home — t'roo 

de  storm  an'  de  luirricanc 
For  kiss  him  de  girl  on  jour  dc  I'an,  an"  sec  dc 

ole  peep  again. 


De   beeg  voyageur  w'at   is    steer   canoe,   wit' 

paddle  hol'  on  hees  han' 
Got  very  long  hair  was  hang  down  hees  neck, 

de  sam'  as  wil'  Injin  man 
Invite  me  on  boar'   dat  phantome  canoe,  for 

show  it  dead  man  de  wa}'" — 
Don't  lak  it  de  job,  but  no  use  refuse,  so  I  '11 

mak'  it  de  embarquer. 


Dcu  wan  of  de  gang,  he  mus'  be  foreman,  say 

it  's  tam  for  have  Icetle  drink, 
So    he    pass    heem    black    bottle    for   tak'    un 
coup,"  an'  it  's  look  lak  ma  own  I  t'ink, 
But  it  can't  be  de  sam',  I  '11  be  swear  for  dat, 

for  w'en  I  was  mak'  de  go, 
I  fill'  dere  is  not'ing  inside  but  win*,   an'   de 

whiskey  's  phantome  also. 


Phil-o-rum  Juneau  67 

Dey  be  laugh  affer  dat,  iak  dey  tak'   some  fit, 

so  de  boss  spik  him,  "  Tiens  Phil-o-rum, 
Never  min'    on   dem   feller — mus'    have   leetle 

sport,  dat  's  very  long  way  we  come. 
Will  you  ketch  it  de  paddle  for  steer  us  quick 

on  place  of  Maxime  Baribault  ?  " 
An'  he  's  ax  me  so  nice,  I  do  as  he  please',  an 

den  away  off  she  go. 


Wan   minute — two  minute — we  pass  on  dere, 

Maxime  he  is  all  hooraw! 
An'  we  know  by  musique  dat  was  play  inside, 

mus'  be  de  great  Joe  Violon, 
Dat   feller  work  fiddle  on  very  bes'  way,  dat 

nobody  never  see 
Mak'  de  boy  an'  de  girl,  ole  peep  also,  dance 

Jak  dey  was  go  crazee. 


You  s'pose  dey  was  let  me  come  on  dat  house  ? 

Not  at  all,  for  de  boss  he  say, 
"  Phil-o-rum,  it  's  long  tam  we  don't  see  our 

fren',  can't  get  heem  chance  ev'ry  day, 
Please  stop  on  canoe  so  she  won't  blow   off, 

w'ile  we  pass  on  de  house  an'  see 
Dem   frien'   we  was  Icf  an'  de  girl  we  spark, 

before  we  go  strange  contree. " 


68  The  Habitant 

An'  nic  I  was  sit  on  canoe  outside,  jus'  lak   I 

was  sap  re  fou, 
Watchin'  dem  feller  dat  's  all  dead  man,  dance 

lieem  lak  Loup  Garou. 
Dc  boss  he  kiss  Marie  Louise,  ma  girl,  dat    s 

way  he  spen'  mos'  de  tarn. 
Hut  of  course  she  know  not'ing  of  dat  biz-nesse 

— don't  lak  it  me  jus'  de  sam'. 


l?y    tam    I  'm    commence  it    for    feci    de   col', 

dc\'  're  all  comin'  out  encore, 
An'   we  start  off  again  t'roo  de  sky,  hooraw: 

for  mak'  de  visitc  some  more. 
All  de  place   on   de  parish   we  go   dat  night, 

w'erever  dey  get  some  dance. 
Till  I  feel  it  so  tire,  I  could  sleep  right  off,  but 

dey  don't  geev  it  me  no  chance. 


De  l.is'  place  w'ere  passin'  dat  's  Bill  l/oucher. 

he  's  very  good  frien'  of  me, 
An'  I  I 'ink  it  's  near  tam  I  was  lef  dat  crowd, 

so  I  '11  snub  de  canoe  on  tree. 
Den   affer  dead   man   he   was   safe   inside,    an' 

ev^'rywan  start  danser, 
I  go  on  de  barn  wat   's  behin'   de  house,   for 

see  I  can't  hide  away. 


Phil-0-rum  Juneau  69 

She    's  nice   place   de   barn,   an'    got    plaintcc 

warm,  an'  I  'm  feel  very  glad  be  dere. 
So  long  dead  feller  don't  fin'  me  out,  an'  ketch 

it  me  on  de  hair. 
But  s'pose  I  get  col',  work  him  hard  all  night, 

'cos  I  make  it  wan  Icetle  cough. 
Wen  de  rooster  he  's  scare,  holler  t'ree,  four 

tam,  an'  whole  t'ing  she  bus'  right  off. 


I  '11  never  see  not'ing  so  quick  again-  -Canoe 

an'  dead  man  go  scat! 
She  's  locky  de  rooster  he  mak'  de  noise,  bus' 

ev'ryt'ing  up  lak  dat, 
Or  mebbe  dem  feller  get  me  encore,  an'  tak' 

me  on  Hodson  Bay, 
But  it  's  all  right  now,  for  de  morning's  come, 

an'  he  see  me  ole  Bill  Boucher. 


I  'm  feel  it  so  tire,  an'  sore  all  de  place,  wit'  all 

de  hard  work  I  do', 
'Cos  I  'm  not  very  use  for  mak'  paddle,  me,  on 

beeg,  beeg  phantome  canoe. 
But  Bill  an'  hees  boy  dey  was  leef  me  up,  an' 

carry  me  on  maison 
Were  plaintee  nice  t'ing  dey  was  mak'  me  eat, 

an'  drink  it  some  whisk'v  blanc. 


/O  The  Habitant 

An'  now  w'en   I    'm  finish,   w'at  you  t'ink  it 

youse'f,  'bout  story  dat  you  was  hear  ? 
No  wonner  ma  hair  slie  is  all  turn  w'ite  before 

I  get  eighty  year! 
But  'member  dis  t'ing,  I  be  tole  you  firs,  don't 

los'  it  mes  chers  amis, 
De  man  lie  can  leev  him  on  long,  long  tam, 

an'  not  see  it  La  Chasse  Gal'rie! 


He  sit  on  de  corner  mos*  every  night,  ole  Phil- 

o-rum  Juneau, 
Spik  wit'  hcsc'f,  an'  shak'  dc  head,  an'  smoke 

on  de  pipe  also, 
But  kip  very  quiet,  don't  wak'  him  up,  let  him 

stay  on  dc  kitchen  wall. 
For  if  you  believe  w'at  de  ole  man  say,  you 

believe  anyt'ing  at  all. 


BELL  or 

5T  mi 

MICHEL 


GO  'way,  go  'way,  don't  ring  no  more,  ole 
bell  of  Saint  Michel, 
For  if  you  do,  I  can't  stay  here,  you  know  dat 

very  well. 
No  matter  how  I  close  ma  ear,  I  can't  shut  out 

de  soun', 
It  rise  so  high  'bove  all  de  noise  of  dis  beeg 
Yankee  town. 


71 


72 


The  I  I;il)it:int 


An'  w'cn  il  riui^,  I  t'ink  1  feci  dc 
cuul,  cool  summer  breeze 

Dat  's  blow  across  Lac  Pcezagonk, 
an'  play  among  dc  trees, 

Dcy're  niakin' hay,  I  know  mese'f, 
can  smell  dc  pleasant  smell 

Ol  how  I  wish  I  could  be  dcre  to- 
day on  Saint  Michel! 

It  's  fonny  t'ing,  for  me  I  'm  sure, 

dat  's  travel  cv'ryw'ere, 
How  moche   I    t'ink   of   long  ago 

w'en  I  be  leevin'  dere; 
I    can't   'splain  dat  at   all,  at    all, 

mebbe  it  's  naturel, 
But  I  can't  help  it  w'en  I  hear  de 

bell  of  Saint  Michel. 


Dere  's  plaintee  t'ing  I  don't  for- 
V    H'^^-"^  eret,  but  I  remember  bcs' 

"^Vmj^  De  spot  I  fin'  wan  day  on  June  de 
;  ^^-^^  small  san'piper's  nes' 

/  -^-^  An'  dat  hole  on  de  recver  w'ere  I 


-f^ 


ketch  de  beeg,  beeg  trout 


^J  *^'^  Was  verv  nearly  pull  me  in  before 
»  I  pull  heem  out. 

An'  leetle  Elodie  Leclaire,  I  won- 

ner  if  she  still 
Leev    jus'   sani'   place    she    use    to 
eev  on  'noder  side  de  hill. 


De  Bell  of  St.  Michel  72> 

But  s'posc  slic  marry  Joe  l^arbcau, dat  's  alway 

hangin'  roun' 
Since  I  am  \cV  ole  Saint  Michel  for  work  on 

Yankee  town. 

Ah!   dere  she  go,   ding  dong,   ding  dong,    its 

back,  encore  again 
An'   ole  chanson  come  on  ma  head  of  "a  la 

claire  fontaine," 
I  'm  not  surprise  it  soun'  so  sweet,  more  sweeter 

I  can  tell 
For  wit'  de  song  also  I  hear  de  bell  of  Saint 

Michel. 

It  's  very  strange  about  dat  bell,  go  ding  dong 

all  de  w'ile 
For  when   I  'm  small  gar^on  at  school,   can't 

hear  it  half  a  mile ; 
But  seems  more  farder  I  get  off  from  Church 

of  Saint  Michel, 
De  more  I  see  de  ole  village  an'  louder  soun' 

de  bell. 

O!  all  de  monee  dat  I  mak'  w'en  I  be  travel  roun' 
Can't  kip  me  long  away  from  home  on  dis  beeg 

Yankee  town, 
I  t'ink  I  '11  settle  down  again  on  Parish  Saint 

Michel, 
An'  leev  an'  die  more  satisfy  so  long  I  hear  dat 

bell. 


^'^<t . 


PELANG!  Pelang!  Mon  cher  garcon, 
I   t'ink  of  you — t'ink  of  you   night   and 
day — 
Don't  mak'  no  difference,  seems  to  me 
Do  long  long  tarn  you  're  gone  away. 

De  snow  is  deep  on  de  Grande  Montagne — 
Lak  tonder  de  rapide  roar  below — 

De  sam'  kin'  night,  ma  boy  get  los' 
On  bccg,  beeg  storm  forty  year  ago. 

An'  I  nev^er  was  hear  dc  win'  blow  hard. 

An'   de  snow  come   sweesh   on  de  window 
pane — 


74 


Pelang  75 

But  ev'ryt'ing  'pear  lak'  it  's  yesterday 

An'  whole  of  ma  troub'  is  come  back  again. 

Ah  me !  I  was  foolish  young  girl  den 

It  's  only  ma  own  plaisir  I  care, 
An'  w'en  some  dance  or  soiree  come  off 

Dat  's  very  sure  t'ing  you  will  see  me  dere. 

Don't  got  too  moche  sense  at  all  dat  tarn, 
Run  ev'ry  place  on  de  whole  contree — 

But  I  change  beeg  lot  w'en  Pelang  come  'long, 
For  I  love  him  so  well,  kin*  o'  steady  me. 

An'  he  was  de  bes'  boy  on  Coteau, 

An'  t'ink  I  am  de  bes'  girl  too  for  sure — 

He  's  tole  me  dat,  geev  de  ring  also 

Was  say  on  de  inside  "  Je  t'aime  toujours," 

1  oreev  heem  some  hair  dat  come  off  ma  head, 
I  mak'  de  nice  stocking  for  warm  hees  feet. 

So  ev'ryt'ing  's  feex,  w'en  de  spring  is  come 
For  mak'  mariee  on  de  church  toute  suite. 

"  W'en  de  spring  is  come!  "     Ah  I  don't  see 
dat, 

Dough  de  year  is  pass  as  dey  pass  before, 
An'  de  season  come,  an'  de  season  go, 

But  our  spring  never  was  come  no  more. 


76  The  Habitant 

It  's  on  dc  fete  of  tie  jour  de  Tan, 

An'  de  worl'  outside  is  cole  an'  w'ite, 

As  I  sit  an'  watch  for  mon  ciier  Pelang 

For  he  's  promise  come  see  me  dis  very  night. 

Bonhomme  Peloquin  dat  is  leev  near  us — 

He  's  ahvay  keep  look  heem  upon  de  moon- 
See  fonny  t'ing  dere  only  week  before, 

An'  say  he  's  expec'  some  beeg  storm  soon. 

So  ma  fader  is  mak'  it  de  laugh  on  me' 

Pelang   he    's   bclic\e    heem    de    ole    l^on- 
homme 
Dat  t'ink  he  see  ev'ryt'ing  on  de  moon 

An'  mcbbe  he  's  feel  it  too  scare  for  come." 

}^ut  I  don't  spik  not'ing  I  am  so  sure 
Of  de  promise  Pelang  is  mak'  wit'  me — 

An'  de  mos'  beeg  storm  dat  is  ne\er  blow 
Can't  kip  heem  away  from  hees  ou  n  Marie. 

I  open  de  door,  an'  pass  outside 

P\)r  see  mese'f  how  de  night  is  look 

An'  de  star  is  commence  for  go  couch^ 
De  mountain  also  is  put  on  hees  tuque. 

No  sooner,  I  come  on  de  liouse  again 

Were  ev'ryt'ing  feel  it  so  nice  an'  warm, 

Dan  out  r)f  dc  sky  come  de  Nf)r'  Eas'  win' — 
Out  of  de  sky  come  de  beeg  snow  storm. 


Pelang  T] 

Blow  lak  not'ing  I  never  see, 

Blow  lak  le  diable  he  was  mak'  grande  tour; 
De  snow  come  down  lak  wan  avalanche, 

An'  cole!  Mon  Dieu,  it  is  cole  for  sure   ! 

I  t'ink,  I  ti'nk  of  mon  pauvre  gar^on, 

Dat  's  out  mebbe  on  de  Grande  Montagne; 

So  I  place  chandelle  we're  it  's  geev  good  light, 
An'  pray  Le  Bon  Dieu  he  will  help  Pelang. 

De  ole  folk  t'ink  I  am  go  crazee, 

An'  moder  she  's  geev  me  dc  good  night  kiss; 
She  say  "  Go  off  on  your  bed,  Marie, 

Dere  's  nobody  come  on  dc  storm  lak  dis. " 

But  ma  eye  don't  close  dat  long  long,  night 
For  it  seem  jus'  lak  phantome  is  near, 

An'  I  ti'nk  of  de  terrible  Loup  Garou 
An'  all  de  bad  story  I  offen  hear. 

Dere  was  tam  I  am  sure  somet'ingcall"  Marie  ' 
So  plainly  I  open  de  outside  door. 

But  it  's  meet  me  only  de  awful  storm, 

An  de  cry  pass  away — don't  come  no  more 

An'  de  morning  sun,  w'en  he  's  up  at  las', 
Fin'  me  w'ite  as  de  face  of  de  snow  itse'f, 

For  I  know  very  well,  on  de  Grande  Montagne, 
Ma  poor  Pelang  he  's  come  dead  hese'f. 


78  The  llabiUint 

It  's  noon  by  de  clock  w'cn  de  storm  blow  off, 
An'  ma  fader  an'  brodcr  start  out  for  see 

Any  track  on  do  snow  by  de  Mountain  side, 
Or  down  on  de  place  w'ere  chemin  should  be 

No  sign  at  all  on  de  Grande  Montagne, 
No  sign  all  over  de  w'ite,  w'ite  snow; 

Only  hear  de  win'  on  de  beeg  pine  tree, 
An'  roar  of  de  rapide  down  below. 

An'  w'ere  is  he  lie,  mon  cher  Pelang! 

Pelang  ma  boy  I  was  love  so  well  ? 
Only  Le  Bon  Dieu  up  above 

An'  mebbe  de  leetle  snow  bird  can  tell. 

An  I  t'ink  I  hear  dc  leetle  bird  say, 

Wait  till  de  snow  is  geev  up  it's  dead, 
Wait  till  I  go,  an'  de  robin  come, 

An'  den  you  will  fin'  hces  cole,  cole  bed." 

An'  it  's  all  come  true,  for  w'en  de  sun 
Is  warm  de  side  of  de  Grande  Montague 

An'  drive  away  all  de  winter  snow. 

We  fin'  heem  at  las',  mon  cher  Pelang! 

An'  here  on  de  fete  of  de  jour  de  Pan, 

Alone  by  mese'f  I  sit  again, 
Wile  de  beeg,  beeg  storm  is  blow  outside, 

An'    de   snow   come   sweesh   on    de  window 
pane. 


Pelang  79 

Not  all  alone,  for  I  t'ink  I  hear 

De  voice  of  ma  boy  gone  long  ago; 

Can  hear  it  above  de  hurricane, 
An'  roar  of  de  rapide  down  below. 

Yes — yes — Pelang,  mon  cher  gar^on ! 

I  t'ink  of  you,  t'ink  of  you  night  an'  day, 
Don't  mak'  no  difference  seems  to  me 

How  long  de  tam  you  was  gone  away. 


MON  Cn0lJ4l  CASTOR 


.«. 


■■V:...    m.if 


1  ^:-  ^:..f 


I'M  poor  man,  me,  but  I  buy  las'  May 
Wan  horse  on  de  Comp'nie  Passenfrairc, 
An'  auction  feller  w'at  sole  heem  say 

She  's  out  of  de  full-breed  "  Messengaire. ' 


Good  trotter  stock,  also  galluppe, 
But  work  long  tarn  on  de  city  car, 

Of  course  she  's  purty  well  break  heem  up. 
So  come  leetle  cheap  — twenty-wan  dollarre. 


80 


Mon  Choual  "Castor"         8i 

Firs'  chance  I  sen'  heeni  on  St.  Cesaire, 

Were  I  t'ink  he  's  have  moche  better  sight, 

Mebbe  de  grass  an'  de  contree  air 

Very  soon  was  feex  heem  up  all  right. 

I  lef  heem  dere  till  de  fall  come  'long, 

An'  dat  trotter  he  can't  eat  grass  no  more, 

An'  w'en  I  go  dere,  I  fin'  heem  strong 
Lak  not'ing  I  never  see  before. 

I  heetch  heem  up  on  de  light  sulkee, 
L'enfant!  dat  horse  he  is  cover  grounM 

Don't  tak'  long  tarn  for  de  crowd  to  see 
Mon  choual  he  was  leek  all  trotter  roun' . 

Come  down  de  race  course  lak'  oiseau 
Tail  over  datch  boar',  nice  you  please, 

Can't  tell  for  sure  de  quick  he  go, 

S'pose  somew'ere  'bout  two,  t'ree  forties. 

I  treat  ma  frien'  on  de  whiskey  blanc, 

An'  we  drink  "  Castor  "  he  's  bonne  sant^ 

From  L'Achigan  to  St.  Armand, 

He  's  bes'  horse  sure  on  de  whole  comt^. 

'Bout  week  on  front  of  dis,  Lalime, 

Dat  man  drive  horse  call  "  Clevelan'  Bay  ' 

Was  challenge,  so  I  match  wit'  heem 
For  wan  mile  heat  on  straight  away. 


82  The  Habitant 

Dat  *s  twenty  dollarrc  on  wan  side, 
De  lawyer  's  draw  de  paper  out, 

But  if  dem  trotter  come  in  tied, 

Wall!  all  dat  monee  *s  go  on  spout. 

Nex'  t'ing  ma  backer  man,  Labrie, 

Tak'  off  his  catch-book  vingt  cinq  cents, 

An'  toss  Lalime  bcs'  two  on  t'ree 
For  see  who  's  go  on  inside  fence. 

Bateese  Lalime,  he  's  purty  smart, 
An'  gain  dat  toss  wit'  jockey  trick. 

I  don't  care  me,  w'en  "  Castor  "  start. 
Very  soon  I  t'ink  he  's  mak'  heem  sick. 

Beeg  crowd  of  course  was  dere  for  see 
Dem  trotter  on  de  grand  match  race 

Some  people  come  from  St.  Remi 
An'  some  from  plaintee  'noder  place. 

W'en  all  is  ready,  flag  was  fall 

An'  way  dem  trotter  pass  on  fence 

Lak  not'ing  you  never  sec  at  all. 

It  mak'  me  t'ink  of  "  St.  Lawrence."  * 

"  Castor,"  hees  tail  was  stan'  so  straight 
Could  place  chapeau  on  de  en'  of  top 

An'  w'en  he  struck  two  forty  gait 
Don't  seem  he's  never  go  for  stop. 

*  "St.  Lawrence,"  the  Canadian  "  Dexter." 


Mon  Choual  "Castor"  8 

Wall !  dat  's  all  right  for  firs'  half  mile 
Wen  Clevelan'  Bay  commence  for  break, 

Dat  male'  me  feel  very  moche  lak  smile, 
I  'm  sure  "  Castor  "  he  's  took  de  cake. 

But  Lalime  pull  heem  hard  on  line 
An'  stop  "  Clevelan'  "  before  go  far, 

It  's  all  no  good,  he  can't  ketch  mine 
I  'm  go  more  quicker  lak  express  car. 

I  'm  feel  all  right  for  my  monee. 

For  sure  mon  Choual  he  's  took  firs'  placCj 
W  'en  'bout  arpent  from  home,  sapre, 

Somet'ing  she  's  happen,  I  'm  los'  de  race. 

Wan  bad  boy  he  's  come  out  on  track, 
I  cannot  see  dat  bad  boy's  han' ; 

He  's  hoi'  somet'ing  behin'  hees  back, 
It  was  small  bell,  I  understan'. 

Can  spik  for  dat,  ma  horse  go  well, 
An'  never  show  no  sign  of  sweat. 

Until  dat  boy  he  's  ring  hees  bell — 
Misere!  I  t'ink  I  hear  heem  yet! 

Wall!  jus'  so  soon  mon  Choual  "  Castor  " 
Was  hear  dat  bell  go  kling!  klang!  kling! 

He  's  tink  of  course  of  city  car. 
An'  spose  mus'  be  conductor  ring. 


v5 


84  The  Habitant 

Firs'  t'ing  I  know  ma  trotter  's  drop 
Dat  tail  was  stan'  so  straight  before, 

An*  after  dat,  mebbe  he  stop 

For  me,  I  don't  know  not'ing  more. 

But  w'en  I  'm  come  alive  again 

I  fin'  dat  horse  call  "  Clevelan'  Bay  " 

Was  got  firs'  place,  an'  so  he  's  gain 
Dat  wan  mile  heat  on  straight  away. 

An'  now  w'erever  I  am  go 

Bad  boy  he  's  sure  for  holler  an'  yell 
Dis  done!  Dis  done!  Paul  Archambault! 

Wat  's  matter  wit'  your  chestnutte  bell  ? 

]\Iak'  plaintee  troub'  dem  bad  gargons, 

An'  often  ring  some  bell  also, 
Was  mad!  Could  plonge  on  de  St.  Laurent 

An'  w'at  to  do,  "  Castor  "  don't  know. 

Las'  tarn  I  pass  de  railway  track 
For  drive  avec  mon  frere  Alfred, 

In-jinne  she  's  ring,  "  Castor  "  he  's  back, 
Monjee!  it  's  fonny  I  'm  not  come  dead? 

Toujours  comme  qa\  an'  mak'  me  sick, 
But  horse  dat  work  long  on  les  chars 

Can't  broke  dem  off  on  fancy  trick 
So  now  I  'm  busy  for  sole  "  Castor." 


,j,4AifeVv-.. 


i©  LE  TAM 
ON 


f    LAK  on  summer  ev'ning,  w'en    nice  cool 
1  win'  is  blowin' 

An'  up  above  ma  head,  I  hear  de  pigeon  on 
de  roof, 
To  bring  ma  chair  an'  sit  dere,   an'  watch  de 
current  flowin' 
Of  ole   Riviere  des   Prairies   as  she  pass  de 
Bord-a  Plouffe. 


85 


86  The  ILibitint 

But  it  seem  dead  place  for  sure  now,  on  shore 
down  by  de  lan'in' — 
No  more  de  voyageurs  is  sing  lak  dcy  was 
sing  alway — 
De    tree    dey    're    commence    growin'    w'ere 
shaintee  once  is  stan'in', 
An*   no  one  scare  de  swallow  w'en  she  fly 
across  de  bay. 


I   don't  lak  see  de  reever  she  's  never  doin' 
not'in' 
But  passin'  empty  ev'ry  day  on  Bout  de  I'ile 
below — 
Ma  olc  shaloup  dat  's  lyin'  wit'  all  its  timber 
rottin* 
An'  tarn  so  change  on  Bord-a  Plouffe  since 
forty  year  ago ! 


De  ice  dat  freeze  on  winter,  might  jus'  as  well 
be  stay  dere, 
For  w'en  de  spring  she  's  comin'  de  only 
t'ing  I  see 
Is  two,  t'ree  piqnique  feller,  hees  girl  was  row 
away  dere, 
Don't  got  no  use  for  water  now,  on  Riviere 
des  Prairies. 


Ole  Tarn  Sy 

'T  was  diff'rciit  on  dem  summer  ycu  could  n't 
see  do  rcevcr, 
Wit'  saw-log  an'  squar'  timber  raf ,  mos'  all 
de  season  t'roo — 

Two  bonder  man  an'   more  too — all  busy  lak 
de  beaver, 
An'   me!    I  'm   wan   de  pilot  for  ronne  'em 
down  de  "  Soo." 


Don't  'member  lak  I  use  to,  for  now  I  'm  get- 
tin'  ole,  me — 
But  still  I  can't  forget  Bill  Wade,  an'  Guil- 
laume  Lagasse, 
Joe  Monferrand,  Bazile  Montour — wit'  plaintee 
I  can't  tole,  me, 
An'  king  of  all  de  Bord-a  Plouffe,  M'sieu' 
Venance  Lemay. 


Lak  small  boy  on  hees  lesson,  I  learn  de  way 
to  han'le 
Mos'  beeges'  raf  is  never  float  upon  de  Ot- 
tawaw, 
Ma  fader  show  me  dat  too,  for  well  he  know 
de  channel, 
From  Dutchman  Rapide  up  above  to  Bout 
de  I'ile  en  bas. 


88  The  Habitant 

He  *s  smart  man  too,  ma  fader,  only  t'iny  he 
got  de  bow-leg, 
Ridin'   log  w'en  leetle   feller,  mebbe  dat  's 
de  reason  w'y, 
All  de  sam',  if  he  's  in  hurry,  den  Bagosh!  he 
's  got  heem  no  leg 
But  wing  an'  fedder  lak  t)i.scau,  was  fly  upon 
de  sky! 


O  dat  was  tam  we  're  happy,  an*  man  dey  *rc 
ahvay  singin'. 
For  if  it  's  hard  work  on  de  raf,  w'y  derc  's 
your  monee  sure! 
An'  ev'ry  summer  evenin',  ole  Bord-a  Plouffe 
she  's  ringin' 
Wit'    "En    Roulant    ma    Boule  "    an'    "J' 
aimerai  toujour." 


Dere  dey  're  comin'  on  de  wagon!  fine  young 
feller  ev'ry  wan  too, 
Dress  im  up  de  ole  tam  fashion,  dat  I  lak  for 
see  encore, 
Yellin'   hooraw!  t'roo  de  village,  all  de  horse 
upon  de  ronne  too. 
Ah  poor  Bord-a  Plouffe!  she  never  ha\e  dem 
tam  again  no  more! 


Ole  Tarn  «9 

Very  off  en  w'en  I  'm  sleepin',  I  was  feel  as  if 
I  'm  goin' 
Down  de  ole  Riviere  des  Prairies  on  de  raf 
de  sam  as  den — 
An'  ma  dream  is  only  lef  me,  w'en  de  rooster 
commence  crowin' 
But  it  can't  do  me  no  harm,  'cos  it  mak  me 
young  again. 


An'  upon  de  morning  early,  wen  de  reever  fog 
is  clearin' 
An'   sun   is  makin'   up  hees  min'  for  drive 
away  de  dew, 
W'en  young  bird  want  hees  breakfas',  I  wak' 
an'  t'ink  I  'm  hearin' 
Somebody  shout  "  Hooraw,  Bateese,  de  raf 
she  's  wait  for  you." 


Dat  's  voice  of  Guillaume  Lagasse  was  call  me 
on  de  morning 
Jus'   outside  on  de   winder  w'ere  you   look 
across  de  bay, 
But  he  's  drown  upon  de  Longue  "  Soo,"  wit' 
never  word  of  warning 
An'  green  grass  cover  over  poor  Guillaume 
Lagass^. 


90  The  Ihibit^int 

I  s'lxisc  chit  's  mcanin'  somet'in<^ — mebbe  I  'm 
not  Ioiil;  for  stay  here, 
Secin'   all  dciii   slrani^c   t'iii<^   happen — dead 
frien'  coniin'  roun'  nic  so — 
But  I  'ni  sure  I  die  more  hapi)y,  if  I  got  jus' 
wan  more  day  here, 
Lak  we  liave  upon  de  ole  tarn  Hord-a  I'louffe 
of  long  ago! 


To  the  hut  of  the  peasant  ,  or  lordly  hall, 
To  the   heart  of  the  king,    or  humblest 
thrall, 
Sooner  or  late,  love  comes  to  all, 
And  it  came  to  the  Grand  Seigneur,  my  dear, 
It  came  to  the  Grand  Seigneur. 


The  robins  were  singing  a  roundelay, 
And  the  air  was  sweet  with  the  breath  of  May, 
As  a  horseman  rode  thro'  the  forest  way, 
And  he  was  a  Grand  Seigneur,  my  dear, 
He  was  a  grand  Seigneur. 


Lord  of  the  Manor,  Count  Bellefontaine, 
Had  spurr'd  over  many  a  stormy  plain 
With  gallants  of  France  at  his  bridle  rein, 
For  he  was  a  brave  Cavalier,  my  dear — 
He  was  a  brave  Cavalier. 

91 


92  The  llabiUmt 

But  tlic  huntsman's  daughter,  La  Belle  Marie, 
Held  the  Kni<rht's  proud  heart  in  captivity, 
And  oh!  she  was  fair  as  the  fleur  de  lys, 
Tho'  only  a  peasant  maid,  my  dear, 
Only  a  peasant  maid. 


Thro*  the  woodland  depths  on  his  charger  grey 
To  the  huntsman's  cottage  he  rides  away, 
And  the  maiden  lists  to  a  tale  to-day 
That  haughtiest  dame  might  hear,  my  dear, 
That  haughtiest  dame  might  hear. 


But  she  cried  "  Alas!  it  may  never  be. 
For  my  heart  is  pledged  to  the  young  Louis, 
And  I  love  him,  O  Sire,  so  tenderly, 
Tho'  he  's  only  a  poor  Chasseur,  my  Lord, 
Only  a  poor  Chasseur." 


Enough,"  spake  the  Knight  with  a  courtly 

bow, 
Be  true  to  thy  lover  and  maiden  vow, 
For  virtue  like  thine  is  but  rare,  I  trow. 
And  farewell  to  my  dream  of  love,  and  thee. 
Farewell  to  my  dream  of  thee." 


The  Grand  Seiijneur  93 


fe 


And  they  say  the  gallant  Count  Bellefontaine 
Bestowed  on  the  couple  a  rich  domain, 
But  you  never  may  hear  such  tale  again, 
For  he  was  a  Grand  Seigneur,  my  dear, 
He  was  a  Grand  Seigneur! 


■v. 


.-^_ 


MJ5IEU  5Mm 


l-^ 


llli:  AUVKN  rURliS 
OF  AN  ENGLISH- 
MAN IN  THE  CAN- 
ADIAN   WOODS 


w 


AX  morning 

tic   walkim 

boss  say ' '  Damase, 

I   t'ink  )'ou  're 

good     man    on 

canoe  d'ecorce, 

So  I  '11  ax  you  go 

wit'  your  frien' 

Phik-as 

An'  meet  M'sieu' 

Smit'  on  Chen- 

ailW'ite  Horse. 


"  He  '11  have  I  am  sure  de  grosse  baggage — 
Mcbbe  some  valise — mebbe  six  or  t'ree — 

But  if  she  's  too  moche  for  de  longue  portage 
'Poleon  he  will  tak'  'em  wit'  mail  buggee. " 


94 


M'sieu  Sniit  95 

Wen  we  reach  Chenail,  plaintee  peep  be  dere, 
An'  wan  frien'  of  me,  call  Placide  Chretien, 

'Splain  all  dat  w'en  he  say  man  from  Angleterre 
Was  spik  heem  de  crowd  on  de  "  Parisien." 

Fonny  way  dat  Englishman  he  '11  be  dress, 
Leetle  pant  my  dear  frien'  jus'  come  on  knee, 

Wit'  coat  dat  's  no  coat  at  all — only  ves' 
An'  hat — de  more  stranger  I  never  see! 

Wall!  dere  he  sit  on  de  en*  some  log 
An'  swear  heem  in  English  purty  loud 

Den  talk  Francais,  w'ile  hees  chien  boule  dog 
Go  smellim  an'  smellim  aroun'  de  crowd. 

I  spik  im  "  Bonjour,  M'sieu'  Smit',  Bonjour, 
I  hope  dat  yourse'f  and  famille  she  's  well  ?  " 

M'sieu  Smit'  he  is  also  say  "  Bonjour," 
An'   call  off  hees  dog  dat  's  commence  for 
smell. 

I  tell  heem  my  name  dat  's  Damase  Labrie 
I  am  come  wit'  Phi  leas  for  mak'  de  trip, 

An'  he  say  I  'm  de  firs'  man  he  never  see 
Spik  English  encore  since  he  lef  de  ship. 

He  is  also  ax  it  to  me  "  Damase, 

De  peep  she  don't  seem  understan'  Frangais, 
W'at  's  matter  wit'  dat  ?  "     An'  I  say  "  Becos 

You  mak'  too  much  talk  on  de  Parisien." 


96  The  Habitant 

De  groiin  she  is  pile  w  it'  baggage — Sapr^! 

An'  I  see  purty  quick  we  got  plaintee  Iroub — 
Two  tronk,  t'ree  valise,  four-five  fusil. 

An'  w'at  M'sieu  Smit'  he  is  call  "bat'  tubbe. " 

M'sieu  Smit'  he  's  tole  me  w'at  for  's  dat  t'ing, 
An'  it  seem  Englishman  he  tlon't  feel  correc' 

Until  he  's  go  plonge  on  some  bat'  morning 
An'  sponge  it  hees  possibill  high  hees  neck 

Of  course  dat'  s  not'ing  of  my  becz-nesse, 
He  can  plonge  on  de  water  mos'  ev'ry  day, 

But  I  t'ink  for  mese'f  it  mak  foolishness 

An'  don't  do  no  good  w'en  your  bonne  sant^. 

Wen  I  tell  'Poleon  he  mus'  mak'  dat  job, 
Dere  's  leetle  too  moche  for  canoe  d'^corce, 

He  's  mad  right  away  an'  say  "  Sapre  diable! 
You  t'ink  I  go  work  lak  wan  niggeriiorse  ? 

"  I  'm  not  manufacture  dat  way,  ba  non, 
Dat  rich  stranger  man  he  have  lot  monee, 

I  go  see  my  frien'  Onesime  Gourdon, 

An'  tole  heem  bring  horse  wit'  some  more 
buggee." 

Wall!  affer  some  w'ile  dey  '11  arrange  all  dat, 
'Poleon  an'  hees  frien'  Onesime  Gourdon, 

But  w'en  'Poleon  is  tak'  hole  of  bat'. 
He  receive  it  beeg  scare  immediatcment ' 


M'sieu  Smit  97 

Dat  chien  boule  dog,  I  was  tole  you  'bout, 
I  am  not  understaii'  w'at  good  she  's  for, 

Eat  'Poleon's  leg  w'it  hees  teet'  an'  mout, 
'Poleon  he  is  feel  very  mad — by  Gor! 


Of  course   I   am   poule  heem  hees  tail  toute 
suite 
But  I  don't  know  some  reason  mak  all  dis 
troub', 
Wen  I  hear  me  dat  Englishman,  M'sieu  Smit' 
Say  'Poleon,  w'at  for  you  took  my  tubbe  ? 

"  Leff  'im  dere — for  I  don't  low  nobodee 
Walk  heem  off  on  any  such  way  lak  dat; 

You  may  tak'  all  de  res',  an'  I  don't  care  me — 
But  de  man  he  '11  be  keel  who  is  tak'   my 
bat'." 

"  I  will  carry  heem  wit'  me,"  sayM'sieu  Smit' — 

W'erever  dat  tubbe  she  mus'  go,  I  go — 
No  matter  de  many  place  we  visite. 

An'  my  sponge  I  will  tak'  mese'f  also." 

Phileas  say  "  Damase,  we  mus  buil'  some  raf 
Or  mebbe  some  feller  be  sure  get  drown  "  ; 

Dis  geev  me  plaisir,  but  I  'm  scare  mak'  laf, 
So  I  '11  do  it  mese'f,  inside,  way  down. 


98  The  Habitant 

At  las'  we  are  start  on  voyacjc,  sure  nuff, 

M'sieu    Sniit'    carr\-   tubbc   on   dc   toji   hces 
head, 

Good  job,  I  t'ink  so,  dc  lac  is  n't  roviLjh, 
Or  probably  dis  tarn,  \vc  're  all  come  dead. 

De  dog  go  wit'  Onesimc  Gourdon, 
An'  Onesime  affcrwar'  say  to  me, 

"  Dat  chien  boule  dog  is  cat  'Polcon 
Was  de  more  quiet  dog  I  never  see." 

But  fun  she  's  commence  on  very  nex'  day 
Wen  we  go  camp  out  on  de  Castor  Noir. 

Dat  Englishman  he  '11  come  along  an'  say 
"  I  hope  some  wil'  Injun  she  don't  be  dere. 

"  I  have  hear  many  tam,  dat  de  wood  be  foule 
Of  Injun  w'at  tak'  off  de  hair  your  head. 

But  so  surely  my  name  she  's  Johnnie  Boule 
If  I  see  me  dem  feller  I  shoot  it  dead." 

Phileas  den  pray  harder,  more  quick  he  can 
Mebbe  he  's  t'ink  dat  's  hees  las'  portage 

De  moder  hees  fader,  she  's  Injun  man 
Derefore  an'  also,  he  is  wan  Sauvage. 

I  say  "  Don't  mak'  it  some  excitement; 

Saison  she  is  '  close  '  on  de  spring  an'  fall, 
An'  dem  peep  dat  work  on  de  Gouvernement 

Don't  lak  you  shoot  Injun  dis  mont'  at  all." 


M'sicu  Smit  99 

Nex'  day  M'sieu  Smit'  is  perform  hees  plonge 
We  see  heem  go  done  it — -Phileas  an'  me, 

An'  w'en  he  's  hang  up  bat'  tubbe  an'  sponge 
We  go  on  de  wood  for  mak'  Chasse  perdrix. 

An'  mebbe  you  will  not  believe  to  me. 

But  w'en  we  come  back  on  de  camp  encore 

De  sponge  of  dat  Englishman  don't  be  see, 
An'  we  fin'  beeg  bear  she  's  go  dead  on  shore. 

Very  fonny  t'ing  how  he  ';:  loss  hees  life, 
But  Phileas  he  '11  know  hese'f  purty  quick. 

He  cut  M'sieu  Bear  wit'  h(^es  hunter  knife. 
An'  sponge  she  's  fall  out  on  de  bear  stum- 
mick. 

Day  affer  we  get  two  fox  houn'  from  Boss 
Dat   's   eood   for  ketch   deer  on  de  fall  an' 


sprnipr 


Den  place  Englishman  w'ere  he  can't  get  los' 
An'  tole  heem  shoot  quicker  he  see  somet'ing. 

Wat  's  dat  leetle  deer  got  no  horn  at  all  ? 

She  '11  be  moder  small  wan  en  suite  bimeby, 
Don't  remember  mese'f  w'at  name  she  's  call, 

But  dat  's  de  kin'  start  w'en  de  dog  is  cry. 

We  see  heem  come  down  on  de  runaway 
De  dog  she  is  not  very  far  behin' 


loo  The  IhibiUmt 

All'  w'cn  clc\-  i);iss  place  M'.sicii  Sinit'  is  stay 
We  cxpcc'  lie  will  shoot  or  make  noise  some 
kin'! 

But  he  's  not  shoot  at  all,  mon  cher  ami, 

So  we  go  an'  we  ax  "  Is  he  see  some  deer  ?  " 

He  say  "  Dat  's  long  tarn  I  am  stay  on  tree 
But  I  don't  see  not'ing  she  's  pass  on  here." 

We  spik  hccin  once  more,  "He  don't  see  fox 
houn'  ?  " 
Wat  you  t'iiik  he  is  say,  dat  Englishman  ? 
"  Yes,  I  see  dcm  pass  quickly  upon  de  groun', 
Wan  beeg  yellow  dog,  an'  two  small  brown 
wan." 

He  's  feel  de  more  bad  I  don't  see  before 
W'en  he  know  dat  beeg  dog,  she  's  wan  small 
deer, 

An'  for  mak'  ev'ryt'ing  correc'  encore 

We  drink  I  am  sure  six  bouteilles  de  biere. 

Nex'  day — dat  's  Dimanche — he  is  spik  to  me, 
"  Damase,  you  mus'  feel  leetle  fatigu6, 

You  may  slep'  wit'  Phileas  w'ile  I  go  an'  see 
I  can't  get  some  nice  quiet  tarn  to-day." 

So  for  keep  'way  skeeter,  an'  fly  also 

Bouteille  from  de  shelf  M'sieu  Smit'  he  tak', 


M'sieu  Sniit  loi 

Den  he  start  wit'  his  chien  boule  dog  an'  go 
For  nice  quiet  walk  on  shore  of  lac. 

We  don't  slep'  half  hour  w'en  dere   's  beeg, 
beeg  yell, 
Lak  somet'ing  I  'm  sure  don't  hear  long  tarn, 
An'  we  see  wan  feller  we  cannot  tell. 

Till   he  spik  it,   "  Damase!    Phileas!!    dam 
dam!!! 

Den  we  know  it  at  once  mon,  cher  ami, 

But  she  's  swell  up  hees  face — hees  neck  an' 
han'! 

It  seem  all  de  skeeter  on  w'ole  contree 
Is  jump  on  de  head  of  dat  Englishman. 

Some  water  on  poor  M'sieu  Smit'  we  '11  t'row, 
An'    w'en    he  's    tranquille    fin'   out    ev'ry- 
t'ing; 

Bouteille  he  's  rub  on,  got  some  nice  sirop 
I  was  mak'  mese'f  on  de  wood  las'  spring. 

Dere  was  jus*  'noder  t'ing  he  seem  for  care 
An'  den  he  is  feel  it  more  satisfy, 

Dat  t'ing,  my  dear  frien*,  was  for  keel  some 
bear. 
If  he  '11  do  dat  wan  tam,  he  's  prepare  for  die. 


102  The  Habitant 

Philcas  say  he  know  w'cre  some  blue  bcrree 
Mak'  very  good  place  for  dc  bear  have  fonnc, 

So  we  start  ncx'  tlay  on  morning  earlee, 

An'  M'sicu  Smit'  go  wit'  hees  clephan'  gun. 

Wan  woman  sauvage  she  is  come  be  dere, 
Mebbe  want  some  blue  berree  mak'  some  pie, 

Dat'  Englishman  shoot,  he  is  t'ink  she  's  bear, 
An'   de  woman   she  's  holler,  "  Mon    Dicu, 
I  'm  die  !  " 

M'sieu  Smit'  he  don't  do  no  harm,  becos 
He  is  shake  hese'f  w'en  he  shoot  dat  squaw, 

But  scare  he  pay  hunder'  dollar  cos' 

For  keel  some  sauvage  on  de  "  close  "  saison. 

T'ree  day  affcr  dat,  we  start  out  on  lac 
For  ketch  on  de  water  w  an  Cariboo, 

I-5ut  win'  she  blow  strong,  an'  we  can't  get  back 
Till  we  t'row  ourse'f  out  on  dat  canoe. 

We  t'ink  M'sieu  Smit'  he  is  sure  be  drown, 
Leetle  w'ile  we  can't  see  heem  again  no  more, 

An'  den  he  's  come  up  from  dc  place  go  down 
An'  jomp  on  hees  bat'  tubbc  an*  try  go  shore. 

W'en  he  's  pass  on  de  bat',  he  say  "  Hooraw!  " 
An' commence  right  away  for  mak'  some  sing; 


M'sieu  Smit  103 

I'm  sure  you  can  hear  heem  ten-twelve  arpent 
'Bout  "  Brittanie,  she  alway  mus'  boss  some- 

.    »  •  9  9 

t  mg. 

Dat  's  all  I  will  tole  you  jus'  now,  my  frien' ; 

I  s'pose  you  don't  know  de  more  fonny  case, 
But  if  Englishman  go  on  wood  again 

I  '11  have  more  storee  w'en  you  pass  my 
place. 


WHEN    ALBANI    SANG 

WAS  workin'  away  on  dc  farm  dcre,  wan 
morning  not  lon^  ago, 
Fccxin'   de  fence  for  winter — 'cos  dat  's  w'erc 

we  got  de  snow! 
Wen  Jercmie  Plouffe,  ma  neighbor,  come  over 

an'  spik  wit'  me, 
"  Antoine,  you  will  come  on  de  city,  for  hear 
Ma-dam  AU-ba-nee  ?  " 

"  Wat  you  mean  ? "  I  was  sayin'  right  off,  me, 

"  Some  woman  was  mak'  de  speech. 
Or  girl  on  de   Hooraw  Circus,  doin'  high  kick 

an'  screech  ?  " 
"  Non — non,"    he    is    spikin' — "  Excuse    me, 

dat  's  be  Ma-dam  All-ba-nee 
Was  leevin'  down  here  on  de  contree,  two  mile 

'noder  side  Chambly. 

"  She  's    jus'   comin'    over    from    Englan',    on 

steamboat  arrive  Kebeck, 
Singin'  on  LunncMi  an'  Parce,  an'   havin'   beeg 

tam,  I  cxpec', 

104 


When  Aibani  Sang  105 

But  no  matter  de  moche  she  enjoy  it,  for  travel 

all  roun'de  worl', 
Somet'ing  on  de  heart  bring  her  back  here,  for 

she  was  de  Chambly  girl. 


'*  She  never  do  not'ing  but  singin'  an*  makin' 

de  beeg  grande  tour 
An'   travel  on  summer  an'  winter,  so  mus'  be 

de  firs'  class  for  sure! 
Ev'ryboddy  I  'm  t'inkin'  was  know  her,  an'  I 

also  hear  'nodcr  t'ing. 
She  's  frien'  on  La  Reine  Victoria  an'  show  her 

de  way  to  sing!  " 


Wall,"  I  say,  "  you  're  sure  she  is  Chambly, 
w'at  you  call  Ma-dam  All-ba-nee  ? 

Don't  know  me  dat  nam'  on  de  Canton — I 
hope  you  're  not  fool  wit'  me  ?  " 

An  he  say,  "  Lajeunesse,  dey  was  call  her,  be- 
fore she  is  come  mariee. 

But  she  's  takin'  de  nam'  of  her  husban' — I 
s'pose  dat  's  de  only  way." 

C'est  bon,  mon  ami,"  I  was  say  me,  "  If  I 
get  t'roo  de  fence  nex'  day 
An'  she  don't  want  too  moche  on  de  monee, 
den  mebbe  I  see  her  play." 


io6  The  ILibitint 

So  I  finisli  dat  job  on  to-morrow,  Jcrcmic  he 

was  hclpin'  me  too, 
An'  I  say,  "  Lcn'  mc  t'rcc  dollar  quickly  for 

mak'  dc  voyage  wit'  you." 

Correc' — so  we  're  startin'   ncx'  morning,  an' 

arrive  Montreal  all  right, 
Buy  dollar  tiquette  on  de  bureau,  an'  pass  on 

dc  hall  dat  night. 
Beeg  crowd,  wall !    I  bet  you  was  dere  too,  all 

dress  on  some  fancy  dress, 
Dc  lady,  I  don't  say  not'ing,   but  man  's  all 

w'ite  shirt  an'  no  ves'. 


Don't  matter,  w'en  ban'  dey  be  ready,  de  fore- 
man strek  out  wit'  hees  steek. 

An'  fiddle  an'  ev'ryt'ing  else  too,  begin  for 
play  up  dc  musique. 

It  's  fonny  t'ing  too  dcy  was  playin'  don't  lak 
it  mese'f  at  all, 

I  radcr  be  lissen  some  jeeg,  me,  or  w'at  you 
call"  Afferdeball." 


An'  I  'm  not  feelin'  very  surprise  den,  w'en  de 

crowd  holler  out,  "  Encore," 
For  mak'   all  dcm  feller  commencin'   an'  try 

lectle  piece  some  more, 


When  Albani  Sang  107 

'T  was  better  wan'  too,  I  be  t'inkin',  but  slow 

lak  you  're  goin'  to  die, 
All  de  sam',  noboddy  say  not'ing,   dat  mean 

dey  was  satisfy. 

Affer  dat  come  de  Grande  piano,  lak  we  got  on 

Chambly  Hotel, 
She    's   nice   lookin'    girl   was   play  dat,   so  of 

course  she  's  go  ofT  purty  well, 
Den  feller  he  's  ronne  out  an'  sing  some,  it  's 

all  about  very  fine  moon, 
Dat  shine  on  Canal,  ev'ry  night  too,  I  'm  sorry 

I  don't  know  de  tune. 


Nex'  t'ing  I  commence  get  excite,  me,  for  I 

don't  see  no  great  Ma-dam  yet. 
Too  bad  I  was  los  all  dat  monee,  an'   too  late 

for  de  raffle  tiquette! 
Wen  jus'  as  I  feel  very  sorry,  for  come  all  de 

way  from  Chambly, 
Jeremie  he  was  w'isper,  "  Tiens,  Tiens,  prenez 

garde,  she  's  comin'  Ma-dam  All-ba-nee!  " 

Ev'ryboddy  seem  glad  w'en  dey  see  her,  come 
walkin'  right  down  de  platform. 

An'  way  dey  mak'  noise  on  de  han'  den,  w'y? 
it  's  jus'  lak  de  beeg  tonder  storm! 


loii  The  Habitant 

I  '11  never  see  not'ing  lak  dat,  me,  no  matter 

I  travel  de  worl', 
An'  Ma-dam,  you  t'ink  it  was  scare  her  ?    Non 

she  laugh  lak  de  Chambly  girl! 


Dere  was  young  feller  comin'  behin'  her,  walK 

nice,  comme  un  Cavalier, 
An'  before  All-ba-nee  she  is  ready  an'  piano 

get  startin'  for  play, 
De   feller  commence  wit'   hees  singin',    more 

stronger  dan  all  de  res', 
I  t'ink  he  's  got  very  bad  manner,  know  not'ing 

at  all  politesse. 

Ma-dam,  I  s'pose  she  get  mad  den,  an'  before 

anyboddy  can  spik, 
She  settle  right  down   for  mak'  sing  too,  an' 

purty  soon  ketch  heem  up  quick, 
Den  she  's  kip  it  on  gainin'  an'  gainin',  till  de 

song  it  is  tout  finis, 
An'  w'en  she  is  beatin'  dat  feller,  Bagosh  !   I  am 

proud  Chambly! 

I  'm  not  very  sorry  at  all,  me,  w'en  de  feller 

was  ronnin'  away. 
An'  man  he  's  come  out  wit'  de  piccolo,  an' 

start  heem  right  off  for  play. 


When  Albani  Sang  109 

For  it  's  kin'  de  musique  I  be  fancy,  Jeremie 

he  is  lak  it  also, 
An'  wan  de  bes'  t'ing  on  dat  ev'ning  is  man 

wit'  de  piccolo! 

Den  mebbe  ten  minute  is  passin',  Ma-dam  she 

is  comin'  encore, 
Dis  tarn  all  alone  on  de  platform,  dat   feller 

don't  show  up  no  more. 
An'  w'en  she  start  off  on  de  singin'  Jeremie 

say,  "  Antoine,  dat  's  Frangais,' 
Dis  give   us  more  pleasure,    I   tole  you,   'cos 

w'y  ?     We  're  de  pure  Canayen! 

Dat  song  I  will  never  forget  me,  't  was  song  of 

de  leetle  bird, 
W'en  he  's  fly  from  it  's  nes'  on  de  tree  top, 

'fore  res'  of  de  worl'  get  stirred, 
Ma-dam  she  was  tole  us  about  it,  den  start  off 

so  quiet  an'  low. 
An'  sing  lak  de  bird  on  de  morning,  de  poor 

leetle  small  oiseau. 


I   'member  wan  tam  I  be  sleepin'  jus'  onder 

some  beeg  pine  tree 
An  song  of  de  robin  wak'  me,  but  robin  he 

don't  see  me. 


no  The  Ihibitaiit 

Derc  's    not'in^  for  scarin'  dat  bird  dcrc,  he  's 

feel  all  alone  on  de  worl', 
Wall !  Ma-dam  she  mus'  lisseii  lak  dat  too,  vv'cn 

she  was  de  Chambly  girl ! 


Cos  how  could  she  sing  dat  nice  chanson,  de 
sam'  as  de  bird  I  was  hear, 

Till  I  see  it  de  maiile  an'  pine  tree  an'  Riche- 
lieu roiinin'  near, 

Again  I  'm  de  leetle  feller,  lak  young  colt  upon 
de  spring 

Dat  's  jus'  on  de  way  I  was  feel,  me,  w'en  Ma- 
dam All-ba-nee  is  sing! 

An'  affer  de  song  it  is  finish,  an'  crowd  is  mak' 

noise  wit'  its  han', 
I  s'pose  dey  be  t'inkin'  I  'm  crazy,  dat  mebbe 

I  don't  onderstan*, 
Cos  I  'm  set  on  de  chair  very  quiet,  mese'f  an* 

poor  Jeremie, 
An'  I  see  dat  hees  eye  it  was  cry  too,  jus'  sam' 

way  it  go  wit'  me. 

Dere  's  rosebush  outside  on  our  garden,  ev'ry 

spring  it  has  got  new^  nes'. 
But  only  wan  bluebird  is  bull'  dere,  I  know  her 

from  all  de  res', 


When  Albani  Sang  in 

An'  no  matter  de  far  she  be  fly  in'  away  on  cle 

winter  tarn, 
Back  to  her  own  leetle  rosebush  she  's  comin 

dere  jus'  de  sam'. 


We  're  not  de  beeg  place  on  our  Canton,  mebbe 

cole  on  de  winter,  too, 
But  de  heart  's  "  Canayen  "  on  our  body,  an' 

dat  's  warm  enough  for  true! 
An'    w'en   All-ba-nee   was   got    lonesome    for 

travel  all  roun'  de  worl' 
I  hope  she  '11  come  home,  lak  de  bluebird,  an' 

again  be  de  Chambly  girl ! 


DE   CAMP    ON    DE    "  CHEVAL   ORIS" 

YOU   'member  de  ole  lo<^-camp.  Johnnie,  up 
on  de  Cheval  Gris, 
Were  we  work  so  hard  all  winter,  long  ago 

you  an'  me  ? 
Dere  was  fourteen  man  on  de  gang,  den,  all 

from  our  own  paroisse, 
An'    only  wan   lef   dem   feller   is   ourse'f  an' 
Pierre  Laframboise. 

But  Pierre  can't  see  on  de  eye,  Johnnie,  I  t'ink 

it  *s  no  good  at  all! 
An'  it  was  n't  for  not'ing,  you  're  gettin'  rheu- 

mateez  on  de  leg  las'  fall ! 
I  t'ink  it  's  no  use  waitin',  for  neider  can  come 

wit'  me, 
So  alone   I   mak'   leetle  visit  dat  camp  on  de 

Cheval  Gris. 

An'  if  only  you  sec  it,  Johnnie,  an'  change  dere 

was  all  aroun', 
Ev'ryt'ing  gone  but  de  timber  an'  dat  is  all 

fallin'  down ; 


112 


Camp  on  de  "Cheval  Gris"     113 

No  sign  of  portage  by  de  reever  w'ere  man  dey 

was  place  canoe, 
W'y,  Johnnie,  I  'm  cry  lak  de  bebe,  an'  I  'm 

glad  you  don't  come,  mon  vieux! 


But  strange  t'ing's  happen  me  dere,  Johnnie, 

mebbe  I  go  asleep, 
As  I  lissen   de  song  of  de  rapide,  as  pas'  de 

Longue  Soo  she  sweep, 
Ma  head  she  go  biz-z-z  lak  de  sawmeel,  I  don't 

know  w'at  's  wrong  wit'  me, 
But  firs'  t'ing  I  don't  know  not'ing,  an'  den 

w'at  you  t'ink  I  see  ? 

Yourse'f  an'  res'  of  de  boy,  Johnnie,  by  light 

of  de  coal  oil  lamp, 
An'   you    're   singin'    an'    tolin'    story,    sittin' 

aroun'  de  camp. 
We  hear  de  win'  on  de  chimley,  an'   we  know 

it  was  beeg,  beeg  storm. 
But  ole  box  stove  she  is  roarin',  an'  camp  's 

feelin'  nice  an'  warm. 


I  t'ink  you  're  on  boar'  of  de  raf,   Johnnie, 

near  head  of  Riviere  du  Loup, 
Wen  LeRoy  an'  young  Patsy  Kelly  get  drown 

comin'  down  de  Soo, 


114  The  Habitant 

Wall!  I  see  me  dem  very  same  feller,  jus'  lak 

you  see  me  to-day, 
Playin'  dat  game  dey  call  checker,  de  game  dey 

was  pla\'  ahvay! 

An'  Louis  Charette  asleep,  Johnnie,  wit'  hees 

back  up  agen  dc  wall, 
Makin'   soche  noise   wit'    hees   nose,    dat   you 

t'ink  it  was  moose  on  de  fall. 
I  s'pose  he  's  de  nios'   fattes'  man  dere  'cept 

mebbe  Bateese  La  Rue, 
But  if  I  mak  fonne  on  poor  Louis,  I  know  he 

was  good  boy  too ! 


Wat  you  do  over  dere  on  your  bunk,  Johnnie, 

lightin'  dem  allumettes. 
Are  you  shame  'cos  de  girl  she  write  you,  is 

dat  de  las'  wan  you  get  ? 
It  's  fonny  you  can't  do  widout  it  ev'ry  tam 

you  was  goin'  bed, 
W'y  rcadin'  dat  letter  so  offen,  you  mus  have 

it  all  on  de  head! 


Dat 's  de  very  sam'  letter,  Johnnie,  was  comin' 

t'ree  mont'  ago, 
I  t'ink  I  know  somet'ing  about  it,  'cos  I  fin'  it 

wan  day  on  de  snow. 


Camp  on  de  "Cheval  Gris"     115 

An'  I  see  on  de  foot  dat  letter,  Philomene  she 

is  do  lak  dis :  *  *  | 
I  'm  not  very  moche  on  de  school,  me,  but  I 

t'ink  dat  was  mean  de  kiss. 


Wall!  nobody  's  kickin'  de  row,  Johnnie,  an' 

if  allumettes'  fini. 
Put   Philomene  off  on  your  pocket,   an'   sing 

leetle  song  wit'  me; 
For  don't  matter  de  hard  you  be  workin'  tou- 

jours  you  're  un  bon  gar^on. 
An'  nobody  sing  lak  our  Johnnie,  Kebeck  to 

de  Mattawa! 


An'  it  's  den  you  be  let  her  go,  Johnnie,  till 

roof  she  was  mos'  cave  in, 
An'  if  dere  's  firs'  prize  on  de  singin',  Bagosh! 

you  're  de  man  can  win! 
Affer  dat  come  fidelle  of  Joe  Pilon,  an'  he  's 

feller  can  make  it  play, 
So  we  're  clearin'   de  floor  right  off  den,   for 

have  leetle  small  danser. 


An'  w'en  dance  she  was  tout  finis,  Johnnie,  I 

go  de  sam'  bunk  wit'  you 
Were  we  sleep  lak  two  broder,  an'  dream  of 

de  girl  on  Riviere  du  Loup, 


I  lO  The  Habitant 

Vcr}-  nice  oiUil  somebody  call  nic,  it  souii'  lak 

do  boss  Pclang, 
"  Lcvc  toi,  Jci'ciiiic   ma  youiif;^   feller,  or   else 

you  '11  be  late  on  de  gang." 

An'  den  I  am  wak'  up,  Johnnie,  an'  w'cre  do 

you  t'ink  I  be  ? 
Dcre  was  de  wood  an'  mountain,  dere  was  de 

Cheval  Gris, 
But  w'ere  is  de  boy  an'   musiquc  I  hear  only 

w'ilc  ago  ? 
Gone  lak  de  flower  las'  summer,  gone  lak  de 

winter  snow! 


An'  de  young  man  was  bring  me  up,  Johnnie, 

dat  's  son  of  ma  boy  Maximo, 
Say,    "  Gran 'fader,    w'at    is    de    matter,    you 

havin'  de  bad,  bad  dream  ? 
Come  look  on  your  face  on  dc  well  dere,  it  's 

w'ite  lak  I  never  see, 
Mebbe  't  was  better  you   're  stayin',   an'   not 

go  along  wit'  me." 

An'  w'en  I  look  down  de  well.  Jolmnie,  an'  see 

de  ole  feller  dere, 
I  say  on  mese'f  "  you  be  makin'  fou  Jeremic 

Chateauvert, 


Camp  on  de  "  Cheval  Gris"     117 

For  t'ink  you  're  garcjon  agen.      Ha!  ha!  jus' 

'cos  you  are  close  de  eye, 
An'   only  commence  for  leevin'   w'en  you  're 

ready  almos'  for  die!  " 


Ah!  dat   's  how  de  young  day  pass,  Johnniej 

purty  moche  lak  de  t'ing  I  see, 
Sometam  dey  be  las'  leetle  longer,  sam'  as  wit' 

you  an'  me. 
But  no  matter  de  ole  we   're  leevin',  de  tam 

she  must  come  some  day, 
W'en   boss  on  de  place  above,  Johnnie,   he  's 

callin'  us  all  away. 


I   *m  glad   I  was   go  on  de   camp,  Johnnie,   I 

t'ink  it  will  do  me  good, 
Mebbe  it  's  las'  tam  too,  for  sure,  I  '11  never 

pass  on  de  wood, 
For  I  don't  expec'  moche  longer  ole  Jeremie 

will  be  lef. 
But  about  w'at   I  see  dat  day,   Johnnie,   tole 

nobody  but  yourse'f. 


DE   STOVE    PIPE    HOLE 

DAT  'S  very  cole  an'  stormy  night  on  Vil- 
lage St.  Mathieu, 
Wen  ev'ry  wan  he  's  go  couched,  an'  dog  was 

quiet,  too — 
Young  Dominique  is  start  heem  out  see  Em- 

meline  Gourdon, 
Was  leevin'  on  her  fader's  place,  Maxime  de 
Forgeron. 

Poor  Dominique  he  's  lak  dat  girl,  an'  love  her 
mos'  de  tarn, 

An'  she  was  mak'  de  promise — sure — some  day 
she  be  his  fammc, 

But  she  have  worse  ole  fader  dat  's  never  on  de 
worl', 

Was  swear  onless  he  's  richc  lak  diable,  no  fel- 
ler 's  tret  hees  erirl. 


He  's  mak'  it  plaintee  fuss  about  hees  daughter 

Emmeline, 
Dat 's  mcbbe  nice  girl,  too,  but  den,  Mon  Dieu, 

she  's  not  de  queen  ! 

ii8 


De  Stove  Pipe  Hole  119 

An'  w'en  de  young  man   's  come  aroun'   for 

spark  it  on  de  door, 
An'  hear  de  ole  man  swear  "  Baptemel  "  he  's 

never  come  no  more. 


VoLing  Dominique  he  's  sam'  de  res', — was  scare 

for  ole  Maxime, 
He  don't  lak  risk  hese'f  too  moche  for  chances 

seein'  heem, 
Dat  's  only  stormy  night  he  come,  so  dark  you 

cannot  see. 
An  dat  's  de  reason  w'y  also,  he  's  climb  de 

gallerie. 

De  girl  she  's  waitin'   dere   for   heem — don't 

care  about  de  rain, 
So  glad  for  see  young  Dominique  he  's  comin' 

back  again, 
Dey  bote  forget  de  ole  Maxime,  an'  mak  de 

embrasser 
An  affer  dey  was  finish  dat,  poor  Dominique  is 

say — 


Good-bye,  dear  Emmeline,  good-bye;  I  'm 
goin'  very  soon. 
For  you  I  got  no  better  chance,  dan  feller  on  de 
moon — 


I20  The  II;il)itant 

It  's  all  dc   fault  }-our   fader,  too,  dat  I   be  go 

away, 
He  's  got  no  use  for  me  at  all — I  sec  dat  ev'ry 

day. 


"  He  's  never  meet  mc  on  dc  road  but  he  is  say 

'  Sapr^ !  ' 
An'  if  he  ketch  mc  on  dc  house  I  'm  scare  he  's 

killin'  me, 
So  I  mus*   Icf  ole  St.   Mathieu,  for  work  on 

'nodcr  place, 
An'  till  I  mak  dc  bccg  for-lunc,  you  never  see 

ma  face." 


Den  Emmelinc  say  "  Dominique,  ma  love 
you  '11  alway  be 

An'  if  }'ou  kiss  mc  two,  t'rcc  tam  I  '11  not  tole 
noboddy — 

But  prenez  garde  ma  fader,  please,  I  know 
he  's  gcttin  olc — 

All  sam'  he  ofTen  walk  de  house  upon  de  stock- 
in'  sole. 


"  Good-bye,    good-bye,   cher    Dominique!      I 

know  you  will  be  true, 
I  don't  want  no  riche  feller  me,  ma  heart  she 

go  wit'  you," 


De  Stove  Pipe  Hole  121 

Dat  's  very  quick  he  's  kiss  her  den,  before  de 

fader  come. 
But    don't    get    too    moche    pleasurement — so 

'fraid  de  ole  Bonhomme, 


Wall!  jus'  about  dey  're  half  way  t'roo  wit  all 

dat  love  beez-nesse 
Emmeline  say,  "  Dominique,  w'at  for  you  're 

scare  lak  all  de  res  ? 
Don't  see  mese'f  moche  danger  now  de  ole  man 

come  aroun'," 
Wen  minute  affer  dat,  dere  's  noise,  lak'  house 

she's  fallin'  down. 


Den  Emmeline  she  holler  "  Fire!  will  no  wan 

come  for  me  ?  " 
An  Dominique  is  jomp  so  high,  near  bus'  de 
gallerie, — 
Help!    help!    right    off,"    somebody    shout, 
I  'm  kilUn'  on  ma  place. 
It  's  all   de   fault   ma   daughter,    too,   dat  girl 
she  's  ma  disgrace." 


He  's  kip  it  up  long  tarn  lak  dat,  but  not  hard 

tellin'  now, 
W'at  's  all  de  noise  upon  de  house — who  's 

kick  heem  up  de  row  ? 


122  The  Ilaljitant 

It  seem  Boiih'.)ninic  was  sneak  aroun'  upcjii  de 

stock! II '  sole, 
An'  firs'  t'ing  den  do  ole  man  walk  rijjht  t'roo 

de  stove  pipe  hole. 


Wen  Dominique  is  sec  heem  deie,  wit'  wan 

leg  hang  below, 
An'  'noder  leg  straight  out  above,  he  's  glad 

for  ketch  heem  so — 
De  ole  man  can't  do  not'ing,  den,  but  swear 

and  ax  for  w'y 
Noboddy  tak'  heem  out  dat  hole  before  he  's 

comin'  die. 


Den  Dominique  he  spik  lak  dis,  "  Mon  cher 
M'sicur  Gourdon 

I  'm  not  riche  city  feller,  me,  I  'm  only  habi- 
tant, 

But  I  was  love  more  I  can  tole  your  daughter 
Emmeline, 

An'  if  I  marry  on  dat  girl,  Bagosh!  she  's  lak  de 
Queen. 

"  I  want  you  mak  de  promise  now,  before  it  's 

come  too  late, 
An'  I  mus'  tole  you  dis  also,  dere  's  not  moche 

tam  for  wait. 


De  Stove  Pipe  Hole  123 

Your  foot  she  's  hangin'   down  so  low,   I   'm 

'fraid  she  ketch  de  cole, 
Wall!  if  you  give  me  Emmeline,  I  pull  you  out 

de  hole." 


Dat  mak'  de  ole  man  swear  more  hard  he  never 

swear  before. 
An'  wit'  de  foot  he  's  got  above,  he  's  kick  it 

on  de  floor, 
"  Non,    non,"    he    say    "  Sapre    tonnerre !    she 

never  marry  you. 
An'  if  you  don't  look  out  you  get  de  jail  on 

St.  Mathieu." 


"  Correc',"  young  Dominique  is  say,  "  mebbe 

de  jail  's  tight  place. 
But  you  got  wan  small  corner,  too,  I  see  it  on 

de  face, 
So  if  you  don't  lak  geev  de  girl  on  wan  poor 

habitant, 
Dat   's  be   mese'f,   I   say,   Bonsoir,   mon  cher 

M'sieur  Gourdon." 

"  Come  back,  come  back,"  Maxime  is  shout — 

I  promise  you  de  girl, 
I  never  see  no  wan  lak  you — no  never  on  de 

worl' ! 


124  The  Habitant 

It  *s  not  de  nice  trick  you  was  play  on  man 

dat  's  <^cttin'  olc, 
But  do  jus'  w'at  you  lak,  so  long  you   pull  me 

out  de  hole." 


"  Hooraw!  Hooraw!"    Den  Dominique  is  puh 

heem  out  tout  suite 
An'  Emmeline  she  's  helpin'  too  for  place  heem 

on  de  feet, 
An'  affer  dat  de  olc  man  's  tak'  de  young  peep 

down  de  stair, 
Were  he  is  go  couche  right  off,  an'  day  go  on 

parloir. 


Nex'  Sunday  morning  dey  was  call  by  M'sieur 

le  Cur6 
Get  marry  soon,  an'  ole  Maxime  gcev  Emma- 

line  away ; 
Den  affer  dat  dey  settle  down  lak  habitant  is 

do, 
An'  have  de  mos'  fine  familee  on  Village  St 

Mathieu. 


DE   SNOWBIRD" 


OLEETLE  bird  dat  's  come  to  us  vv'en 
stormy  win'  she  's  blowin', 
An'  ev'ry  fiel'  an'  mountain  top  is  cover  wit' 
de  snow, 
How  far  from  home  you  're  flyin',  noboddy  's 
never  knowin' 
For  spen'  wit'  us  de  winter  tam,  mon  cher 
petit  oiseau ! 

We  alway  know  you  're  comin*,  w'en  w'e  hear 
de  firs'  beeg  storm, 
A  svveepin'  from  de  sky  above,  an'  screamin' 
as  she  go — 
Can   tell  you   're  safe  inside  it,  w'ere  you  're 
keepin'  nice  an'  warm, 
But  no  wan  's  never  see  you  dere,  mon  chei 
petit  oiseau! 

Was  it  'way  behin'  de  mountain,  dat  de  nort' 
win'  ketch  you  sleepin' 
Mebbe  on  your  leetle  nes'  too,  an'  before  de 
wing  she  grow, 

125 


126  The  Habitant 

Lif  you  up  an'  bring  you  dat  way,  till  some 
morning  fin'  you  pccpin' 
Out  of  new  nes'  on  de  snow  dreef,  mon  pauv' 
petit  oiseau ! 

All  de  wood  is  full  on  summer,  wit'  de  many 
bird  is  sing  dere, 
Dey  mus'  offen  know  each  oder,  mebbe  mak' 
de  frien'  also, 
But  w'en  you  was  come  on  winter,  never  seein' 
wan  strange  wing  dere 
Was  it  mak'  you  fcclin'  lonesome,  mon  pauv' 
petit  oiseau  ? 

Plaintee  bird  is  alway  hidin'  on  some  place  no 
wan  can  fin'  dcm, 
But  ma  Icetle  bird  of  winter,  dat  was  not  de 
way  you  go — 
For  de  chil'ren  on  de  roadside,  you  don't  seem 
to  care  for  min'  dcm 
W'en  dey  pass  on  way  to  schoolhouse,  mon 
cher  petit  oiseau  ! 


No  wan  say  you  sing  lak  robin,  but  you  got  no 
tam  for  sinijin' 
So  busy  it  was  keepin'  you  get  brcakfas'  on 
de  snow, 


'*De  Snowbird"  127 

But  de  small  note  you  was  geev  us,  w'en  it  join 
de  sleigh  bell  ringin' 
Mak'  de  true  Canadian  music,  mon  cher  petit 
oiseau ! 


O  de  long  an'  lonesome  winter,  if  you  're  never 
comin    near  us' 
If  we  miss  you  on  de  roadside,  an'  on  all  de 
place  below! 
But  le  bon  Dieu  he  will  sen'  you  troo  de  storm 
again  for  cheer  us, 
W'en  we  mos*  was  need  you  here  too,  mon 
cher  petit  oiseau ! 


THE    HABITANT'S   JUHH.EE    ODE 

I    RE  AD   on    de   paper    mos'    ev'ry    day,    all 
about  Jubilee 
An'  grande  procession  inovin'  along,  an'  passin' 

across  de  sea, 
Dat  's  chil'ren  of  Queen  Victoriaw  comin'  from 

far  away 
For   tole  Madame  w'at   dey  t'ink   of  her,  an' 
wishin'  her  bonne  sant^. 

An'    if    any  wan   want   to   know   pourquoi   les 

Canayens  should  be  dere 
Wit'  res'  of  de  worl'  for  shout  "  Hooraw  "  an" 

t'row  hees  cap  on  dc  air, 
Purty  quick  I  will  tole  heeni  dc  reason,  w'y  we 

feel  lak  de  oder  do, 
For  if  I  'm  only  poor  habitant,  I  'm  not  on  de 

sapre  fou. 

Of  course  w'en  we  t'ink  it  dc   firs'    i^o  off,  I 

know  very  strant^e  it  seem 
For  fader  of  us  dey  was  offcn  die  for  flag  of 

L'Ancien  Regime. 


The  Habitant's  Jubilee  Ode     i2g 

From  day  w'en  de  voyageurs  come  out  all  de 

way  from  ole  St.  Malo, 
Flyin'  dat  flag  from  de  mas'  above,  an'  long 

affer  dat  also. 


De  English  fight  wit*  de  Frenchman  den  over 

de  whole  coiitree, 
Down  by  de  reever,  off  on  de  wood,  an'  out  on 

de  beeg,  beeg  sea,     ■ 
Killin',  an'  shootin',  an'  raisin'  row,  half  tam 

dey  don't  know  w'at  for, 
W'en  it  's  jus'  as  easy  get  settle  down,   not 

makin'  de  crazy  war. 


Sometam*  dey  be  quiet  for  leetle  w'ile,  you 

t'ink  dey  don't  fight  no  more, 
An'   den  w'en   dey   're  feelin'   all    right  agen, 

Bang!  jus'  lak'  she  was  before. 
Very   offen   we    're   beatin'    dem   on  de  fight, 

sometam'  dey  can  beat  us,  too. 
But  no  feller  's  scare  on  de  'noder  man,  an' 

bote  got  enough  to  do. 


An'  all  de  long  year  she  be  go  lak'  dat,  we 

never  was  know  de  peace, 
Not'ing  but  war  from  de  wes'  contree  down  to 

de  St,  Maurice; 


130  The  Habitant 


Till  dc  las'   fit^ht  *s  coinin'  on  Caiiadaw,  an' 

brave  Gencralc  Montcalm 
Die  lak'  a  sojer  of  France  is  die,  on   Battle  of 

Abraham. 


Dat  's  finish  it  all,  an'  de  English  King  is  axin' 

us  stayin'  dere 
Were  we  have  sam'  right  as  de  'noder  peep 

comin'  from  Angleterre. 
Long  tam'  for  our  moder  so  far  away  de  poor 

Canayens  is  cry, 
But  de  new  step-moder  she  's  good  an'  kin', 

an'  it  's  all  right  bimeby. 

If  de  moder  come  dead  w'en  you're  small  gar^on 

leavin'  you  dere  alone, 
Wit'  nobody  watchin'  for  fear  you  fall,  an  hurt 

yousc'f  on  de  stone, 
An*  'noder  good  woman  she  tak'  your  han'  de 

sam'  your  own  moder  do, 
Is  it  riglit  you  don't  call  her  moder,  is  it  right 

you  don't  love  her  too  ? 


Ba  non,  an'  dat  was  de  way  we  feel,  w'en  de 

ole  Regime  's  no  more, 
An'    de    new    wan    come,    but    don't    change 

moche,  w'y  it  's  jus'  lak'  it  be  before. 


The  Habitant's  Jubilee  Ode     131 

Spikin'  Fran9ais  lak'  we  alway  do,  an  'dc  Eng- 
lish dey  mak  no  fuss, 

An'  our  law  de  sam',  wall,  I  don't  know  me, 
*t  was  better  mebbe  for  us. 


So    de    sam'    as   two  broder  we  settle  down, 

leevin'  dcre  han'  in  han', 
Knowin'    each    oder,    we    lak'    each    oder,    de 

French  an'  de  Englishman, 
For  it  's  curi's  t'ing  on  dis  worl',  I  'm  sure  you 

see  it  agen  an'  agen, 
Dat  offen  de  mos'  worse  ennemi,  he  's  comin' 

de  bes',  bes'  frien'. 


So  we  're  kipin'  so  quiet  long  affcr  dat,  w'en 

las'  of  de  fightin's  done, 
Dat  plaintee  is  say,   de  new  Canayens   forget 

how  to  shoot  de  gun; 
But  Yankee  man  's  smart,   all  de  w^orl'  know 

dat,  so  he  's  firs'  fin'  mistak'  w^an  day 
W'en  he  's  try  cross  de  line,  fusil  on  hee's  han*, 

near  place  dey  call  Chateaugay. 

Of  course  it  's  bad  t'ing  for  poor  Yankee  man 

De  Salaberry  be  dere 
Wit'   habitant   farmer   from   down   below,    an 

two  bonder  Voltigeurs, 


132  The  Habitant 


Dcm   feller  come  off  de   State,    I   s'pose,   was 

fifjhtin'  so  hard  dev  can 
But  dc  blue  coat  sojer  he  don't  get  kill,  is  de 

locky  Yankee  man ! 

Since  den  w'en  dey  're  comin  on  Canadaw,  we 

ahvay  be  treat  dem  well, 
For  dey    're   spennin'    de    monee    lak'    gentil- 

hommes,  an'  stay  on  de  bcs'  hotel. 
Den"  Bienv^enu,"  we  will  spik  dem,  an' "  Come 

back  agcn  nex'  week, 
So  long  you  was  kip  on  de  quiet  an'  don't  talk 

de  politique!  " 

Yass,    dat    is    de  way  Victoriaw    fin'    us   dis 

jubilee, 
Sometam'   we    mak'    fuss    about    not'ing,    but 

it  's  all  on  de  familee, 
An'    w'enever   dere  's    danger   roun'    her,    no 

matter  on  sea  or  Ian', 
She   '11   find   that   les  Canayens  can    fight    de 

sam'  as  bes'  Englishman. 

All'  onder  de  flag  of   Angleterre,   so  long  as 

dat  flag  was  fly — 
Wit'  dcir  English  brodcr,  les  Canayens  is  satisfy 

ieev  an'  die. 


The  Habitant's  Jubilee  Ode      i 


1 ') 


Dat  's  de  message  our  fader  geev  us  w'eii  dey 

're  falliii'  on  Chateaugay, 
An'  de  flag  was  kipin'  dem  safe  den,  dat  's  de 

wan  we  will  kip  alway! 


OLE  Docteur  Fiset  of  Saint  Anicet, 
Sapr^  tonnerre!  he  was  leev  long  tarn! 
I  'm  sure  he  's  got  ninety  year  or  so. 
Beat  all  on  de  Parish  'cept  Pierre  Courteau, 
An'  day  affer  day  he  work  all  de  sam'. 

Dat  house  on  de  hill,    you  can  see  it  still, 
She  's  sam'  place  he  buil'  de  firs'  tarn'  he 
come 
Behin'  it  dere  's  one  leetle  small  jardin 
Got  plaintee  de  bes'  tabac  Canayen 

Wit'  fameuse  apple  an'  beeg  blue  plum. 

An'  dey  're  all  right  dere,  for  de  small  boy's 
scare 

No  matter  de  apple  look  nice  an'  red, 
For  de  small  boy  know  if  he  's  stealin'  some 
Den  Docteur  P'iset  on  dark  night  he  come, 

An'  cut  leetle  feller  right  off  hees  head! 


134 


Ole  Docteur  Fiset  135 

But  w'en  dey  was  rap,  an'  tak'  off  de  cap, 

M'sieu'  le  Docteur  he  will  say  "  Entrez," 
Den  all  de  boy  pass  on  jardin  behin' 
Were  dey  eat  mos'  ev'ryt'ing  good  dey  fin', 
Till  dey  can't  go  on  school  nearly  two,  t'ree 
day. 

But  Docteur  Fiset,  not  moche  fonne  he  get, 

Drivin'  all  over  de  whole  contree, 
If  de  road  she  's  bad,  if  de  road  she  's  good, 
W'en   ev'ryt'ing  's  drown    on   de    Spring-tam 
flood, 
An'  workin'  for  not'ing  half  tarn'  mebbe! 

Let  her  rain  or  snow,  all  he  want  to  know 

Is  jus'  if  anywan  's  feelin'  sick. 
For  Docteur  Fiset  's  de  ole  fashion  kin' 
Doin'  good  was  de  only  t'ing  on  hees  min' 

So  he  got  no  use  for  de  politique. 

An'  he  's  careful  too,  'cos  firs'  t'ing  he  do, 

For  fear  dere  was  danger  some  fever  case, 
Is  tak'  w'en  he  's  come  leetle  w'isky  chaud, 
Den  'noder  wan  too  jus'  before  he  go. 

He  's  so  scare  carry  fever  aroun'  de  place! 

On  nice  summer  day  w'en  we  're  makin'  hay 

Dere  's  not'ing  more  pleasant  for  us  I  'm  sure 
Dan  see  de  ole  man  come  joggin'  along, 


13^  The  IIal)itaiit 


Alw.iy  siiigin'  some  leetle  song, 
An'  hear  hecm  say  "  Tiens,  mes  amis,  Bon- 
jour! 

An*  w'en  de  cole  rain  was  commence  again 
An'  we  're  sittin'  at  home  on   some  warm 
cornerre, 
If  we  hear  de  buggy  an'  see  de  h'ght 
Tearin'  along  t'roo  de  black,  black  night, 
We  know  right  off  dat  's  de  ole  Docteur! 

An'  he  's  smart  horse  sure,  w'at  he  call  "  Fau- 
bourg," 

Ev'ry  place  on  de  Parish  he  know  dem  all, 
An'  you  ought  to  sec  de  nice  way  he  go 
For  fear  he  's  upsettin'  upon  de  snow, 

W'en  ole  man  's  asleep  on  de  cariole! 

I  'member  w'en  poor  Hormisdas  Couture 

Get  sick  on  hees  place  twenty  mile  away 
An'  hees  boy  Ovide  he  was  come  ''  Raquette  " 
W'at  you  call  "  Snowshoe,"  for  Docteur  Fiset, 
An'    Docteur  he   start   wit'   hees  horse  an' 
sleigh. 

All  de  night  before,  de  beeg  storm  she  roar. 

An'  mos'  of  de  day  it  's  de  sam'  also, 
De  drif  was  pilin'  up  ten  feet  high 
You  can't  see  not'ing  dis  side  de  sky, 
Not'ing  but  wan  avalanche  of  snow. 


Ole  Docteur  Fiset  137 

I  'm  hearin'  de  bell  w'en  I  go  on  de  well 

For  water  de  cattle  on  barn  close  by, 
But  I  only  ketch  sight  of  hees  cheval  blanc 
An'  hees  coonskin  coat  wit'  de  capuchon 

An'  de  storm  tak'  heem  off,  jus'  de  sam'  he 
fly. 

Mus'  be  le  Bon  Dieu  dat  is  help  him  t'roo, 
Ole   Docteur   Fiset   an'    hees   horse   "  Fau- 
bourg," 
'T  was   somet'ing  for  splain-me,  wall  I  don't 

care, 
But  somehow  or  'noder  he  's  gettin'  dere, 
An'  save  de  life  Hormisdas  Couture. 

But  it  's  sam'  alway,  lak'  dat  ev'ry  day. 

He  never  was  spare  hese'f  pour  nous  autres. 

He  don't  mak'  moche  monee,  Docteur  Fiset, 

An'  offen  de  only  t'ing  he  was  get 

Is  de  prayer  of  poor  man,  an'  wan  bag  of  oat. 


Wall !  Docteur  Fiset  of  Saint  Anicet 

He  is  not  dead  yet!  an'  I  'm  purty  sure 
If  you  're  passin'  dat  place  about  ten  year  more 
You  will  see  heem  go  roun'  lak'  he  go  before 
Wit'   de  ole  cariole  an'    hees    horse  "  Fau- 
bourg! " 


JOHNNIE  COURTEAU 

AND  OTHER  POEMS 

By  William  Henry  Drummond,  author  of  "  The  Habitant, 
and  other  French-Canadian  Poems."  Fully  illustrated 
by  Frederick  Simpson  Coburn. 

Popular  Edition.     8vo.      (By  mail,  $1.35)     .  .     «^/$i.25 

Large  Paper  Edition.     With  17  photogravure  illus- 
trations and  text  cuts.     (By  mail,  $2.65)  .     «<f/$2.5o 

"Johnnie  Courteau  "  and  "The  Habitant."  Full  leather, 
each  in  a  box net  $3.50 

Autograph  Edition,  limited  to  1000  numbered  sets,  signed  bv 
the  author,  each  volume  containing  a  poem  in  facsiniilc 
of  the  original  manuscript.     2  vols,  calf  backs,  net  $10.00 

"  It  is  not  his  clever  manipulation  of  the  patois  alone  that  has  brought 
him  popularity.  He  knows  the  kindly,  simple  people  that  speak  it  to  llie 
core  ;  he  is  master  of  a  telling  minor  touch  of  pathos,  he  has  humor,  and  a 
wide  sympathy  with  the  French  country  folk  of  the  Dominion.  He  has 
worthily  earned  a  place  in  the  literature  of  Canada.  He  has  the  human 
touch." —  Mail  and  Express. 


THE    HABITANT 

AND  OTHER  FRENCH=CANADIAN  POEHS 

By  William   Henry   Drummond.     Illustrated  by  Frederick 
Simpson  Coburn. 

Popular  Edition.     Illustrated.     8vo.         .         .         .         $1.25 
Large-Paper   Edition.      With    14   photogravure  illustra- 
tions   I2.50 

"  Dr.  Drummond  has  managed  to  move  us  to  tears,  as  well  as  laughter. 
He  has  evidently  a  minute  knowledge  of,  and  a  kindly  sympathy  with,  the 
simple  country  folk  of  the  Dominion.  The  book  is  a  most  delightful  one." 
— London  Spectator. 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS,  NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 


PHIL=0=RUM'5   CANOE 

And  Aladeleine  Vercheres.  Two  Poems.  By  William 
Henry  Drummond,  author  of  "  The  Habitant.'  With  five 
photogravure  illustrations  by  Frederick  Simpson  Coburn. 
i6mo,  75  cts. 

PRESS   NOTICES 

"  Breatlics  throughout  tlie  odors  ami  pulses  with  the  life  of  the  primeval 
forest." — Evcnitig  Post,  Chicago. 

"  In  '  Madt'lciue  Vercheres '  I)ruinnioii<l  reminds  us  forcibly  of  Macaulay. 
— '  riiil-o-Kum's  Canoe'  overflows  with  liLimur  ami  pathos." — Times- 
Herald,  Chicago. 

"  Most  appropriate  souvenir  of  Canada  and  of  this  festive  season. 
'  Phil-o-Rum's  Canoe'  is  the  story  told  by  the  canoe  when  its  work  is 
almost  over,  when  the  paddle  has  ceased  its  song,  and  the  Dead  Rivere 
is  just  ahead." — Montreal  Herald. 

"In  '  I'hil-o-Rum's  Canoe'  Dr.  Drummond  opens  up  the  founts  of  tears 
and  laughter,  and  touches  the  simpler  things  of  life,  so  as  to  stir  the 
depths  of  human   tenderness." — Montreal  Gazette. 

"  Both  author  and  artist  enter  most  heartily  and  sympathetically  into  the 
life  of  Lower  Canada,  and  jif.rtray  its  humor  and  jiatiios.  its  spirit  and 
legends,  in  a  way  that  is  finding  a  world-wide  audience.  '  Phil-o-Rum's 
Canoe 'is  captivating   and   delightful." — Christian    Guardian,   Toronto. 

"  '  Le  Canot  de  Phil-o-Rum '  et '  Madeleine  Vercheres '  sont  deux  nouveaux 
poemes,  qui  ceux  de  '  L'lTabitant '  revelent  tout  le  patriotisme,  toute  la 
sincerite,  tout  a  la  naivete,  toute  la  poesie  enfin,  de  nos  raves  paysans." 
— La  J'resse,   Montreal. 

"  Gracieux  et  charmant  qu'on  aime  toujours  k  relire." — La  Patrie, 
Montreal. 

Q.  P.  F*UTNAM'S  SONS,  New  York  and   London 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
Los  Angeles 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


JUn2  6  1961 
usa. 

mfDCDiQBi 
£    AUG    ?^^ 


Form  L9-42m-8,'49(B5573)444 


THE  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  Oh'  r  \i  jr.-kuivTTA 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


AA    000  379  255    3 


